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Beyond  the  City. 


BY 


A.  CONAN  DOYLE. 


AUTHOR  OF   "the   WHITE   COMPANY,"    "ADVENTURES   OF  SHERLOCK  HOLMBS,'' 
*'a  STUDY   IN   SCARLET,"   "  THB  SIGN   OF  THE   FOUR,"   ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 
OPTIMUS   PRINTING   COMPANY, 

45,  47,  49  AND   51   ROSE  STREET. 


•INRY  MO^  THENS 


I 


BEYOND  THE  CITY. 

CHAPTER    I. 

THE  NEW-COMERS. 

"If  you  please,  mum,"  said  the  voice  of  a 
domestic  from  somewhere  round  the  angle  of 
the  door,  "number  three  is  moving  in." 

Two  little  old  ladies,  who  were  sitting  at 
either  side  of  a  table,  sprang  to  their  feet  with 
ejaculations  of  interest,  and  rushed  to  the  win- 
dow of  the  sitting-room. 

"Take  care,  Monica  dear,"  said  one,  shroud- 
ing herself  in  the  lace  curtain;  "don't  let  them 
see  us." 

"No,  no.  Bertha.  We  must  not  give  them 
reason  to  say  that  their  neighbors  are  inquisi- 
tive. But  I  think  that  we  are  safe  if  we  stand 
like  this. " 

The  open  window  looked  out  upon  a  sloping 
lawn,  well  trimmed  and  pleasant,  with  fuzzy 
rosebushes    and  a    star-shaped    bed  of  sweet- 

5  514262 


6  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

William.  It  i;va^  bounded  by  a  low  wooden 
.feuce,;  wxiich  screened  it  off  from  a  broad,  mod- 
ern, new  metaled  road.  At  the  other  side  of 
this  road  were  three  large  detached  deep-bod- 
ied villas  with  peaky  eaves  and  small  wooden 
balconies,  each  standing  in  its  own  little  square 
of  grass  and  of  flowers.  All  three  were  equally 
new,  but  numbers  one  and  two  were  curtained 
and  sedate,  with  a  human,  sociable  look  to  them; 
while  number  three,  with  yawning  door  and 
unkempt  garden,  had  apparently  only  just  re- 
ceived its  furniture  and  made  itself  ready  for 
its  occupants.  A  four-wheeler  had  driven  up 
to  the  gate,  and  it  was  at  this  that  the  old 
ladies,  peeping  out  bird-like  from  behind  their 
curtains,  directed  an  eager  and  questioning 
gaze. 

The  cabman  had  descended,  and  the  passen- 
gers within  were  handing  out  the  articles  which 
they  desired  him  to  carry  up  to  the  house.  He 
stood  red-faced  and  blinking,  with  his  crooked 
arms  outstretched,  while  a  male  hand,  protrud- 
ing from  the  window,  kept  piling  up  upon  him 
a  series  of  articles  the  sight  of  which  filled  the 
curious  old  ladies  with  bewilderment. 

"My  goodness  me!"  cried  Monica,  the  small- 
er, the  drier,  and  the  more  wizened  of  the 
pair.  "What  do  you  call  that,  Bertha?  It  looks 
to  me  like  four  batter  puddings." 

"Those  are  what  young   men  box  each  other 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  7 

with,"  said  Bertha,  with  a  conscious  air  of 
superior  worldly  knowledge. 

"And  those?" 

Two  great  bottle-shaped  pieces  of  yellow 
shining  wood  had  been  heaped  upon  the  cab- 
man. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  what  those  are, "  confessed 
Bertha.  Indian  clubs  had  never  before  ob- 
truded themselves  upon  her  peaceful  and  very 
feminine  existence. 

These  mysterious  articles  were  followed, 
however,  by  others  which  were  more  within 
their  range  of  comprehension — by  a  pair  of 
dumb-bells,  a  purple  cricket-bag,  a  set  of  golf 
clubs,  and  a  tennis  racket.  Finally,  when  the 
cabman,  all  top-heavy  and  bristling,  had  stag- 
gered oft  up  the  garden  path,  there  emerged 
in  a  very  leisurely  way  from  the  cab  a  big,  pow- 
erfully built  young  man,  with  a  bull  pup  under 
one  arm  and  a  pink  sporting  paper  in  his  hand. 
The  paper  he  crammed  into  the  pocket  of 
his  light  yellow  dust-coat,  and  extended  his 
hand  as  if  to  assist  some  one  else  from  the 
vehicle.  To  the  surprise  of  the  two  old  ladies, 
however,  the  only  thing  which  his  open  palm 
received  was  a  violent  slap,  and  a  tall  lady 
bounded  unassisted  out  of  the  cab.  With  a  regal 
wave  she  motioned  the  young  man  towards  the 
door,  and  then  with  one  hand  upon  her  hip 
she  stood    in  a   careless,    lounging    attitude  by 


8  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

the  gate,  kicking  her  toe   against  the  wall    and 
listlessly  awaiting  the  return  of  the  driver. 

As  she  turned  slowly  round,  and  the  sunshine 
struck  upon  her  face,  the  two  watchers  were 
amazed  to  see  that  this  very  active  and  energetic 
lady  was  far  from  being  in  her  first  youth,  so 
far  that  she  had  certainly  come  of  age  again 
since  she  first  passed  that  landmark  in  life's 
journey.  Her  finely  chiseled,  clean-cut  face, 
with  something  red  Indian  about  the  firm 
mouth  and  strongly  marked  cheek  bones,  showed 
even  at  that  distance  traces  of  the  friction  of 
the  passing  years.  And  yet  she  was  very 
handsome.  Her  features  were  as  firm  in  repose 
as  those  of  a  Greek  bust,  and  her  great  dark 
eyes  were  arched  over  by  two  brows  so  black, 
so  thick,  and  so  delicately  curved,  that  the 
eye  turned  away  from  the  harsher  details  of 
the  face  to  marvel  at  their  grace  and  strength. 
Her  figure,  too,  was  straight  as  a  dart,  a  little 
portly,  perhaps,  but  curving  into  magnificent 
outlines,  which  were  half  accentuated  by  the 
strange  costume  which  she  wore.  Her  hair, 
black  but  plentifully  shot  with  grey,  was  brushed 
plainly  back  from  her  high  forehead,  and  was 
gathered  under  a  small  round  felt  hat,  like  that 
of  a  man,  with  one  sprig  of  feather  in  the  band 
as  a  concession  to  her  sex.  A  double-breasted 
jacket  of  some  dark  frieze-like  material  fitted 
closely  to  her  figure,  while   her    straight    blue 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  9 

skirt,  untrimmed  and  ungathered,  was  cut  so 
short  that  the  lower  curve  of  her  finely-turned 
legs  was  plainly  visible  beneath  it,  terminating 
in  a  pair  of  broad,  flat,  low-heeled  and  square- 
toed  shoes.  Such  was  the  lady  who  lounged 
at  the  gate  of  number  three,  under  the  curious 
eyes  of  her  two  opposite  neighbors 

But  if  her  conduct  and  appearance  had  al- 
ready somewhat  jarred  upon  their  limited  and 
precise  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things,  what 
were  they  to  think  of  the  next  little  act  in  this 
tableau  vivant?  The  cabman,  red  and  heavy- 
jowled,  had  come  back  from  his  labors,  and 
held  out  his  hand  for  his  fare.  The  lady  passed 
him  a  coin,  there  was  a  moment  of  mumbling 
and  gesticulating,  and  suddenly  she  had  him 
with  both  hands  by  the  red  cravat  which  girt 
his  neck,  and  was  shaking  him  as  a  terrier 
would  a  rat.  Right  across  the  pavement  she 
thrust  him,  and,  pushing  him  up  against  the 
wheel,  she  banged  his  head  three  several  times 
against  the  side  of  his  own  vehicle. 

"Can  I  be  of  any  use  to  you,  aunt?"  asked 
the  large  youth,  framing  himself  in  the  open 
doorway. 

"Not  the  slightest,"  panted  the  enraged  lady. 
"There,  you  low  blackguard,  that  will  teach 
you  to  be  impertinent  to  a  lady." 

The  cabman  looked  helplessly  about  him 
with  a    bewildered,    questioning   gaze,  as   one 


10  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

to  whom  alone  of  all  men  this  unheard-of  and 
extraordinary  thing  had  happened.  Then,  rub- 
bing his  head,  he  mounted  slowly  on  to  the 
box,  and  drove  away  with  an  uptossed  hand 
appealing  to  the  universe.  The  lady  smoothed 
down  her  dress,  pushed  back  her  hair  under 
her  little  felt  hat,  and  strode  in  through  the 
hall-door,  which  was  closed  behind  her.  As 
with  a  whisk  her  short  skirts  vanished  into  the 
darkness,  the  two  spectators — Miss  Bertha  and 
Miss  Monica  Williams — sat  looking  at  each 
other  in  speechless  amazement.  For  fifty  years 
they  had  peeped  through  that  little  window  and 
acrosgr  that  trim  garden,  but  never  yet  had  such 
a  sight  as  this  come  to  confound  them. 

"I  wish,"  said  Monica  at  last,  "that  we  had 
kept  the  field. " 

"I  am  sure  I  wish  we  had,"  answered  her 
sister. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BREAKING  THE     ICE, 

The  cottage  from  the  window  of  which  the 
Misses  Williams  had  looked  out  stands,  and  has 
stood  for  many  a  year,  in  that  pleasant  subur- 
ban district  which  lies  between   Norwood,  An- 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  11 

erley,  and  Forest  Hill.  Long  before  there  had 
been  a  thought  of  a  township  there,  when  the 
Metropolis  was  still  quite  a  distant  thing,  old 
Mr.  Williams  had  inhabited  "The  Brambles," 
as  the  little  house  was  called,  and  had  owned 
all  the  fields  about  it.  Six  or  eight  such  cot- 
tages scattered  over  a  rolling  country-side  were 
all  the  houses  to  be  found  there  in  the  days 
when  the  century  was  young.  From  afar,  when 
the  breeze  came  from  the  north,  the  dull,  low 
roar  of  the  great  city  might  be  heard,  like  the 
breaking  of  the  tide  of  life,  while  along  the 
horizon  might  be  seen  the  dim  curtain  of  smoke, 
the  grim  spray  which  that  tide  threw  up.  Grad- 
ually, however,  as  the  years  passed,  the  City 
had  thrown  out  a  long  brick-feeler  here  and 
there,  curving,  extending,  and  coalescing,  un- 
til at  last  the  little  cottages  had  been  gripped 
round  by  these  red  tentacles,  and  had  been  ab- 
sorbed to  make  room  for  the  modern  villa. 
Field  by  field  the  estate  of  old  Mr.  Williams 
had  been  sold  to  the  speculative  builder,  and 
had  borne  rich  crops  of  snug  suburban  dwell- 
ings, arranged  in  curving  crescents  and  tree- 
lined  avenues.  The  father  had  passed  away 
before  his  cottage  was  entirely  bricked  round, 
but  his  two  daughters,  to  whom  the  property 
had  descended,  lived  to  see  the  last  vestige  of 
country  taken  from  them.  For  years  they  had 
clung  to  the  one   field  which   faced    their  win* 


12  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

dows,  and  it  was  only  after  much  argument  and 
many  heartburnings,  that  they  had  at  last  con- 
sented that  it  should  share  the  fate  of  the 
others.  A  broad  road  was  driven  through  their 
quiet  domain,  the  quarter  was  re-named  "The 
Wilderness,"  and  three  square, staring,  uncom- 
promising villas  began  to  sprout  up  on  the 
other  side.  With  sore  hearts,  the  two  shy  little 
old  maids  watched  their  steady  progress,  and 
speculated  as  to  what  fashion  of  neighbors 
chance  would  bring  into  the  little  nook  which 
had  always  been  their  own. 

And  at  last  they  were  all  three  finished. 
Wooden  balconies  and  overhanging  eaves  had 
been  added  to  them,  so  that,  in  the  language 
of  the  advertisement,  there  were  vacant  three 
eligible  SwisS-built  villas,  with  sixteen  rooms, 
no  basement,  electric  bells,  hot  and  cold  water, 
and  every  modern  convenience,  including  a 
common  tennis  lawn,  to  be  let  at  ;^ioo  a  year, 
^^  jC^fS^^  purchase.  So  tempting  an  offer  did 
not  long  remain  open.  Within  a  few  weeks 
the  card  had  vanished  from  number  one,  and 
it  was  known  that  Admiral  Hay  Denver,  V. 
C,  C.  B.,  with  Mrs.  Hay  Denver  and  their 
only  son,  were  about  to  move  into  it.  The 
news  brought  peace  to  the  hearts  of  the  Wil- 
liams sisters.  They  had  lived  with  a  settled 
conviction  that  some  wild  impossible  colony, 
some  shouting,  singing  family  of  madcaps,  would 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  13 

break  in  upon  their  peace.  This  establishment 
at  least  was  irreproachable.  A  reference  to 
"Men  of  the  Time"  showed  them  that  Admiral 
Hay  Denver  was  a  most  distinguished  officer, 
who  had  begun  his  active  career  at  Bomarsund, 
and  had  ended  it  at  Alexandria,  having  man- 
aged between  these  two  episodes  to  see  as 
much  service  as  any  man  of  his  years.  From 
the  Taku  Forts  and  the  Shannon  brigade,  to 
dhow-harrying  off  Zanzibar,  there  was  no  variety 
of  naval  work  which  did  not  appear  in  his 
record;  while  the  Victoria  Cross,  and  the 
Albert  Medal  for  saving  life,  vouched  for  it 
that  in  peace  as  in  war  his  courage  was  still 
of  the  same  true  temper.  Clearly  a  very  eligible 
neighbor  this,  the  more  so  as  they  had  been 
confidentially  assured  by  the  estate  agent  that 
Mr.  Harold  Denver,  the  son,  was  a  most  quiet 
young  gentleman,  and  that  he  was  busy  from 
morning  to  night  on  the   Stock  Exchange. 

The  Hay  Denvers  had  hardly  moved  in  before 
number  two  also  struck  its  placard,  and  again 
the  ladies  found  that  they  had  no  reason  to  be 
discontented  with  their  neighbors.  Doctor 
Balthazar  Walker  was  a  very  well-known  name 
in  the  medical  world.  Did  not  his  qualifica- 
tions, his  membership,  and  the  record  of  his 
writings  fill  a  long  half-column  in  the  "Medical 
Directory,"  from  his  first  little  paper  on  the 
"Gouty  Diathesis"  in    1859    to  his    exhaustive 


14  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

treatise  upon  "Affections  of  the  Vaso-Motor 
System"  in  1884?  A  successful  medical  career 
which  promised  to  end  in  a  presidentship  of  a 
college  and  a  baronetcy,  had  been  cut  short  by 
his  sudden  inheritance  of  a  considerable  sum 
from  a  grateful  patient,  which  had  rendered 
him  independent  for  life,  and  had  enabled 
him  to  turn  his  attention  to  the  more 
scientific  part  of  his  profession,  which  had 
always  had  a  greater  charm  for  him  than 
its  more  practical  and  commercial  aspect. 
To  this  end  he  had  given  up  his  house 
in  Weymouth  Street,  and  had  taken  this  oppor- 
tunity  of  moving  himself,  his  scientific  instru- 
ments, and  his  tvo  charming  daughters  (he 
had  been  a  widower  for  some  years)  into  the 
more  peaceful  atmosphere  of  Norwood. 

There  was  thus  but  one  villa  unoccupied, 
and  it  was  no  wonder  that  the  two  maiden  la- 
dies watched  with  a  keen  interest,  which  deep- 
ened into  a  dire  apprehension,  the  curious  inci- 
dents which  heralded  the  coming  of  the  new 
tenants.  They  had  already  learned  from  the 
agent  that  the  family  consisted  of  two  only, 
Mrs.  Westmacott,  a  widow,  and  her  nephew, 
Charles  Westmacott.  How  simple  and  how 
select  it  had  sounded!  Who  could  have  fore- 
seen from  it  these  fearful  portents  which  seemed 
to  threaten  violence  and  discord  among  the 
dwellers  in  The  Wilderness?  Again  the  two  old 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  15 

maids  cried  in  heartfelt  chorus  that  they  wished 
they  had  not  sold  their  held. 

"Well,  at  least,  Monica,"  remarked  Bertha, 
as  they  sat  over  their  teacups  that  afternoon, 
"however  strange  these  people  may  be,  it  is 
our  duty  to  be  as  polite  to  them  as  to  the 
others. " 

"Most  certainly,"  acquiesced  her  sister. 

"Since  we  have  called  upon  Mrs.  Hay  Den- 
ver and  upon  the  Misses  Walker,  we  must  call 
upon  this  Mrs.  Westmacott  also.  " 

"Certainly,  dear.  As  long  as  they  are  living 
upon  our  land  I  feel  as  if  they  were  in  a  sense 
our  guests,  and  that  it  is  our  duty  to  welcome 
them. " 

"Then  we  shall  call  to-morrow,"  said  Bertha, 
with  decision. 

"Yes,  dear,  we  shall.  But,  oh,  I  wish  it 
was  over!" 

At  four  o'clock  on  the  next  day,  the  two 
maiden  ladies  set  off  upon  their  hospitable 
errand.  In  their  stiff,  crackling  dresses  of 
black  silk,  with  jet-bespangled  jackets,  and 
little  rows  of  cylindrical  grey  curls  drooping 
down  on  either  side  of  their  black  bonnets, 
they  looked  like  two  old  fashion  plates  which 
had  wandered  off  into  the  wrong  decade.  Half 
curious  and  half  fearful,  they  knocked  at  the 
door  of  number  three,  which  was  instantly 
opened  by  a  red-headed  page-boy. 


16  BEYCND  THE  CITY 

Yes,  Mrs.  Westmacott  was  at  home.  He 
ushered  them  into  the  front  room,  furnished 
as  a  drawing-room,  where  in  spite  of  the  fine 
spring  weather  a  large  fire  was  burning  in  the 
grate.  The  boy  took  their  cards,  and  then,  as 
they  sat  down  together  upon  a  settee,  he  set 
their  nerves  in  a  thrill  by  darting  behind  a  cur- 
tain with  a  shrill  cry,  and  prodding  at  some- 
thing with  his  foot.  The  bull  pup  which  they 
had  seen  upon  the  day  before  bolted  from  its 
hiding-place,  and  scuttled  snarling  from  the 
room. 

"It  wants  to  get  at  Eliza,"  said  the  youth, 
in  a  confidential  whisper.  "Master  says  she 
would  give  him  more' n  he  brought. "  He  smiled 
affably  at  the  two  little  stiff  black  figures,  and 
departed  in  search  of  his  mistress. 

"What — what  did  he  say?"  gasped  Bertha. 

"Something  about  a Oh,  goodness  gra- 
cious! Oh,  help,  help,  help,  help,  help!"  The 
two  sisters  had  bounded  on  to  the  settee,  and 
stood  there  with  staring  eyes  and  skirts  gath- 
ered in,  while  they  filled  the  whole  house  with 
their  yells.  Out  of  a  high  wicker-work  bas- 
ket which  stood  by  the  fire  there  had  risen  a 
flat  diamond-shaped  head  with  wicked  green 
eyes  which  came  flickering  upwards,  waving 
gently  from  side  to  side,  until  a  foot  or  more 
of  glossy  scaly  neck  was  visible.  Slowly  the 
vicious  head  came  floating  up,  while  at  every 


BEYOND   THE  CITY  17 

oscillation  a  fresh  burst  of  shrieks  came   from 
the  settee. 

"What  in  the  name  of  mischief!"  cried  a 
voice,  and  there  was  the  mistress  of  the  house 
standing  in  the  doorway.  Her  gaze  at  first 
had  merely  taken  in  the  fact  that  two  strangers 
were  standing  screaming  upon  her  red  plush 
sofa.  A  glance  at  the  fireplace,  however, 
showed  her  the  cause  of  the  terror,  and  she 
burst  into  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter. 

"Charley,"  she  shouted,  "here's  Eliza  misbe- 
having again.** 

"I'll  settle  her,"  answered  a  masculine  voice, 
and  the  young  man  dashed  into  the  room.  He 
had  a  brown  horse-cloth  in  his  hand,  which  he 
threw  over  the  basket,  making  it  fast  with  a 
piece  of  twine  so  as  to  effectually  imprison  its 
inmate,  while  his  aunt  ran  across  to  reassure 
her  visitors. 

"It  is  only  a  rock  snake,"  she  explained. 

"Oh,  Bertha!"  "Oh,  Monica'"  gasped  the 
poor  exhausted  gentlewomen. 

"She's  hatching  out  some  eggs.  That  is 
why  we  have  the  fire.  Eliza  always  does  better 
when  she  is  warm.  She  is  a  sweet,  gentle  crea- 
ture, but  no  doubt  she  thought  that  you  had 
designs  upon  her  eggs.  I  suppose  that  you  did 
not  touch  any  of  them?" 

"Oh,  let  us  get  away.  Bertha!"  cried  Monica, 
with  her  thin,  black-gloved  hands  tktowa  to- 
wards in  abhorrence. 


18  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Not  away,  but  into  the  next  room/  said 
Mrs.  Westmacott,  with  the  air  of  one  whose 
word  was  law.  "This  way,  if  you  please!  It  is 
less  warm  here. "  She  led  the  way  into  a  very 
handsomely  appointed  library,  with  three  great 
cases  of  books,  and  upon  the  fourth  side  a 
long  yellow  table  littered  over  with  papers  and 
scientific  instruments.  "Sit  here,  and  you, 
there,"  she  continued.  "That  is  right.  Now 
let  me  see,  which  of  you  is  Miss  Williams,  and 
which  Miss  Bertha  Williams?" 

"I  am  Miss  Williams,"  said  Monica,  still 
palpitating,  and  glancing  furtively  about  in 
dread  of  some  new  horror. 

"And  you  live,  as  I  understand,  over  at  the 
pretty  little  cottage.  It  is  very  nice  of  you 
to  call  so  early.  I  don't  suppose  that  we  shall 
get  on,  but  still  the  intention  is  equally  good." 
She  crossed  her  legs  and  leaned  her  back  against 
the  marble  mantelpiece. 

"We  thought  that  perhaps  we  might  be  of 
some  assistance,"  said  Bertha,  timidly.  "If 
there  is  anything  which  we  could  do  to  make 
you  feel  more  at  home " 

"Oh,  thank  you,  I  am  too  old  a  traveler  to 
feel  anything  but  at  home  wherever  I  go.  I've 
just  come  back  from  a  few  months  in  the  Mar- 
quesas Islands,  where  I  had  a  very  pleasant 
visit.  That  was  where  I  got  Eliza.  In  many 
respects  the  Marquesas  Islands  now  lead  the 
world.  •• 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  19 

"Dear  me!"  ejaculated  Miss  Williams.  'In 
what  respect?" 

"In  the  relation  of  the  sexes.  They  have 
worked  out  the  great  problem  upon  their  own 
lines,  and  their  isolated  geographical  position 
has  helped'  them  to  come  to  a  conclusion  of 
their  own.  The  woman  there  is,  as  she  should 
be,  in  every  way  the  absolute  equal  of  the  male. 
Come  in,  Charles,  and  sit  down.  Is  Eliza  all 
right?" 

"All  right,  aunt." 

"These  are  our  neighbors,  the  Misses  Wil- 
liams. Perhaps  they  will  have  some  stout.  You 
might  bring  in  a  couple  of    bottles,    Charles.  '* 

"No,  no,  thank  you!  None  for  us!"  cried  her 
two  visitors,  earnestly. 

"No?  I  am  sorry  that  I  have  no  tea  to  offer 
you.  I  look  upon  the  subserviency  of  woman 
as  largely  due  to  her  abandoning  nutritious 
drinks  and  invigorating  exercises  to  the  male. 
I  do  neither."  She  picked  up  a  pair  of  fifteen- 
pound  dumb-bells  from  beside  the  fireplace  and 
swung  them  lightly  about  her  head.  "You  see 
what  may  be  done  on  stout, "  said  she. 

"But  don't  you  think,"  the  elder  Miss  Wil- 
liams suggested  timidly,   "don't  you  think, Mrs. 

Westmascott,  that  woman  has  a  mission  of  her 
own?" 

The  lady  of  the  house  dropped  her  dumb* 
bells  with  a  crash  upon  the  floor. 


20  BEYOt^D  THE  CITY 

"The  old  cant!"  she  cried.  "The  old  shib- 
boleth! What  is  this  mission  which  is  reserved 
for  woman?  All  that  is  humble,  that  is  mean, 
that  is  soul-killing,  that  is  so  contemptible  and 
so  ill-paid  that  none  other  will  touch  it.  All 
that  is  woman's  mission.  And  who  imposed 
these  limitations  upon  her?  Who  cooped  her 
up  within  this  narrow  sphere?  Was  it  Provi- 
dence? Was  it  nature?  No,  it  was  the  arch  en- 
emy.     It  was  man. " 

"Oh,  I  say,  auntie!"  drawled  her  nephew. 

"It  was  man,  Charles.  It  was  you  and  your 
fellows  I  say  that  woman  is  a  colossal  monu- 
ment to  the  selfishness  of  man.  What  is  all 
this  boasted  chivalry — these  fine  words  and 
vague  phrases?  Where  is  it  when  we  wish  to 
put  it  to  the  test?  Man  in  the  abstract  will  do 
anything  to  help  a  woman.  Of  course.  How 
does  it  work  when  his  pocket  is  touched? 
Where  is  his  chivalry  thep?  Will  the  doctors 
help  her  to  qualify?  will  the  lawyers  help  her 
to  be  called  to  the  bar?  will  the  clergy  tolerate 
her  in  the  Church?  Oh,  it  is  close  yoiu:  ranks 
then  and  refer  poor  woman  to  her  mission !  Her 
mission!  To  be  thankful  for  coppers  and  not 
to  interfere  with  the  men  while  they  grabble  for 
gold,  like  swine  round  a  trough,  that  is  man's 
reading  of  the  mission  of  women.  You  may 
sit  there  and  sneer,  Charles,  while  you  look 
upon  your  victim,  but  you  know  that  it  is  truths 
©very  word  of  if 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  21 

Terrified  as  they  were  by  this  sudden  torrent 
of  words,  the  two  gentlewomen  could  not  but 
smile  at  the  sight  of  the  fiery,  domineering  vic- 
tim and  the  big  apologetic  representative  of 
mankind  who  sat  meekly  bearing  all  the  sins 
of  his  sex.  The  lady  struck  a  match,  whipped 
a  cigarette  from  a  case  upon  the  mantelpiece, 
and  began  to  draw   the   smoke  into   her  lungs. 

"I  find  it  very  soothing  when  my  nerves  are 
at  all  ruffled,"  she  explained.  "You  don't 
smoke?  Ah,  you  miss  one  of  the  purest  of 
pleasures — one  of  the  few  pleasures  which  are 
without  a  reaction." 

Miss  Williams  smoothed  out  her  silken    lap. 

"It  is  a  pleasure,"  she  said,  with  some  ap- 
proach to  self-assertion,  "which  Bertha  and  I 
are  rather  too  old-fashioned  to  enjoy." 

"No  doubt.  It  would  probably  make  you 
very  ill  if  you  attempted  it.  By  the  way,  I 
hope  that  you  will  come  to  some  of  our  Guild 
meetings.   I  shall  see  that  tickets  are  sent  you. " 

"Your  Guild?" 

"It  is  not  yet  formed,  but  I  shall  lose  no 
time  in  forming  a  committee.  It  is  my  habit 
to  establish  a  branch  of  the  Emancipation  Guild 
wherever  I  go.  There  is  a  Mrs.  Sanderson  in 
Anerley  who  is  already  one  of  the  emancipated, 
so  that  I  have  a  nucleus.  It  is  only  by  organ- 
ized resistance.  Miss  Williams,  that  we  can 
hope  to  hold  our  own  against  the  selfish  sex. 
Must  you  go,  then?" 


22  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Yes,  we  have  one  or  two  other  visits  to 
pay,"  said  the  elder  sister.  "You  will,  I  am 
sure,  excuse  us.  I  hope  that  you  will  find  Nor- 
wood a  pleasant  residence." 

"All  places  are  to  me  simply  a  battle-field," 
she  answered,  gripping  first  one  and  then  the 
other  with  a  grip  which  crumpled  up  their  little 
thin  fingers.  "The  days  for  work  and  healthful 
exercise,  the  evenings  to  Browning  and  high 
discourse,  eh,  Charles?  Good-bye!"  She  came 
to  the  door  with  them,  and  as  they  glanced 
back  they  saw  her  still  standing  there  with  the 
yellow  bull  pup  cuddled  up  under  one  forearm, 
and  the  thin  blue  reek  of  her  cigarette  ascend- 
ing from  her  lips. 

"Oh,  what  a  dreadful,  dreadful  woman!" 
whispered  sister  Bertha,  as  they  hurried  down 
the  street.    "Thank  goodness  that  it  is  over." 

"But  she'll  return  the  visit,"  answered  the 
other.  "I  think  that  we  had  better  tell  Mary 
that  we  are  not  at  home." 


CHAPTER  III. 

DWELLERS  IN    THE  WILDERNESS. 

How  deeply  are  our  destinies  influenced  by 
the  most  trifling  causes!  Had  the  unknown 
builder  who  erected  and  owned  these  new  villas 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  25 

contented  himself  by  simply  building  each  with- 
in its  own  grounds,  it  is  probable  that  these 
three  small  groups  of  people  would  have  re- 
mained hardly  conscious  of  each  other's  exist- 
ence, and  that  there  would  have  been  no  op- 
portunity for  that  action  and  reaction  which  is 
here  set  forth.  But  there  was  a  common  link 
to  bind  them  together.  To  single  himself  out 
from  all  other  Norwood  builders  the  landlord 
had  devised  and  laid  out  a  common  lawn  tennis 
ground,  which  stretched  behind  the  houses  with 
taut-stretched  net,  green  close-cropped  sward, 
and  widespread  whitewashed  lines.  Hither  in 
search  of  that  hard  exercise  which  is  as  nec- 
essary as  air  or  food  to  the  English  tempera- 
ment, came  young  Hay  Denver  when  released 
from  the  toil  of  the  City;  hither,  too,  came 
Dr.  Walker  and  his  two  fair  daughters,  Clara 
and  Ida,  and  hither  also,  champions  of  the 
lawn,  came  the  short-skirted,  muscular  widow 
and  her  athletic  nephew.  Ere  the  summer  was 
gone  they  knew  each  other  in  this  quiet  nook 
as  they  might  not  have  done  after  years  of  a 
stiffer  and  more  formal  acquaintance. 

And  especially  to  the  Admiral  and  the^  Doc- 
tor were  this  closer  intimacy  and  companion- 
ship of  value.  Each  had  a  void  in  his  life,  as 
every  man  must  have  who  with  unexhausted 
strength  steps  out  of  the  great  race,  but  each 
by  his  society  might  help  to  fill  up   that  of  his 


24  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

neighbor.  It  is  true  that  they  had  not  much 
in  common,  but  that  is  sometimes  an  aid  rather 
than  a  bar  to  friendship.  Each  had  been  an 
enthusiast  in  his  profession,  and  had  retained  all 
his  interest  in  it.  The  Doctor  still  read  from 
cover  to  cover  his  Lancet  and  his  Medical 
Journal,  attended  all  professional  gatherings, 
worked  himself  into  an  alternate  state  of  exal- 
tation and  depression  over  the  results  of  the 
election  of  officers,  and  reserved  for  himself  a 
den  of  his  own,  in  which  before  rows  of  little 
round  bottles  full  of  glycerine,  Canadian  bal- 
sam, and  staining  agents,  he  still  cut  sections 
with  a  microtome, and  peeped  through  his  long, 
brass,  old-fashioned  microscope  at  the  arcana 
of  nature.  With  his  typical  face,  clean  shaven 
on  lip  and  chin,  with  a  firm  mouth,  a  strong 
jaw,  a  steady  eye,  and  two  little  white  fluffs 
of  whiskers,  he  could  never  be  taken  for  any- 
thing but  what  he  was,  a  high-class  British 
medical  consultant  of  the  age  of  fifty,  or  per- 
haps just  a  year  or  two  older. 

The  Doctor,  in  his  hey-day,  had  been  cool 
over  great  things,  but  now,  in  his  retirement, 
he  was  fussy  over  trifles.  The  man  who  had 
operated  without  the  quiver  of  a  finger,  when 
not  only  his  patient's  life  but  his  own  reputa- 
tion and  future  were  at  stake,  was  now  shaken  to 
the  soul  by  a  mislaid  book  or  a  careless  maid. 
He  remarked  it  himself,  and  knew  the  reason. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  25 

"When  Mary  was  alive,"  he  would  say,  "she 
stood  between  me  and  the  little  troubles.  I 
could  brace  myself  for  the  big  ones.  My  girls 
are  as  good  as  girls  can  be,  but  who  can  know 
a  man  as  his  wife  knows  him?"  Then  his  mem- 
ory would  conjure  up  a  tuft  of  brown  hair  and 
a  single  whi-te,  thin  hand  over  a  coverlet,  and 
he  would  feel,  as  we  have  all  felt,  that  if  we  do 
not  live  and  know  each  other  after  death,  then 
indeed  we  are  tricked  and  betrayed  by  all  the 
highest  hopes  and  subtlest  intuitions  of  our 
nature. 

The  Doctor  had  his  compensations  to  make 
up  for  his  loss.  The  great  scales  of  Fate  had 
been  held  on  a  level  for  him;  for  where  in  all 
great  London  could  one  find  two  sweeter  girls, 
more  loving,  more  intelligent,  and  more  sym- 
pathetic than  Clara  and  Ida  Walker?  So  bright 
were  they,  so  quick,  so  interested  in  all  which 
interested  him,  that  if  it  were  possible  for  a 
man  to  be  compensated  for  the  loss  of  a  good 
wife  then  Balthazar  Walker  might  claim  to  be 
so. 

Clara  was  tall  and  thin  and  supple,  with  a 
graceful,  womanly  figure.  There  was  something 
stately  and  distinguished  in  her  carriage, 
"queenly"  her  friends  called  her,  while  her 
critics  described  her  as  reserved   and  distant. 

Such  as  it  was,  however,  it  was  part  and  par- 
cel of  herself,  for  she  was,  and  had  always  from 


26  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

her  childhood  been,  different  from  anyone  around 
her.  There  was  nothing  gregarious  in  her  na- 
ture. She  thought  with  her  own  mind,  saw 
with  her  own  eyes,  acted  from  her  own  impulse. 
Her  face  was  pale,  striking  rather  than  pretty, 
but  with  two  great  dark  eyes,  so  earnestly  ques- 
tioning, so  quick  in  their  transitions  from  joy 
to  pathos,  so  swift  in  their  comment  upon  every 
word  and  deed  around  her,  that  those  eyes  alone 
were  to  many  more  attractive  than  all  the  beauty 
of  her  younger  sister.  Hers  was  a  strong,  quiet 
soul,  and  it  was  her  firm  hand  which  had  taken 
over  the  duties  of  her  mother,  had  ordered  the 
house,  restrained  the  servants,  comforted  her 
father,  and  upheld  her  weaker  sister,  from  the 
day  of  that  great  misfortune. 

Ida  Walker  was  a  hand's  breadth  smaller  than 
Clara,  but  was  a  little  fuller  in  the  face  and 
plumper  in  the  figure.  She  had  light  yellow 
hair,  mischievous  blue  eyes  with  the  light  of 
humor  ever  twinkling  in  their  depths,  and  a 
large,  perfectly  formed  mouth,  with  that  slight 
upward  curve  of  the  corners  which  goes  with 
a  keen  appreciation  of  fun,  suggesting  even  in 
repose  that  a  latent  smile  is  ever  lurking  at  the 
edges  of  the  lips.  She  was  modern  to  the  soles 
of  her  dainty  little  high-heeled  shoes,  frankly 
fond  of  dress  and  of  pleasure,  devoted  to  tennis 
and  to  comic  opera,  delighted  with  a  dance, 
which  came  her  way  only  too  seldom,  longing 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  27 

ever  for  some  new  excitement,  and  yet  behind 
all  this  lighter  sideof  her  character  a  thoroughly- 
good,  healthy-minded  English  girl,  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  house,  and  the  idol  of  her  sister 
and  her  father.  Such  was  the  family  at  number 
two.  A  peep  into  the  remaining  villa  and  our 
introductions  are  complete. 

Admiral  Hay  Denver  did  not  belong  to  the 
florid,  white-haired,  hearty  school  of  sea-dogs 
which  is  more  common  in  works  of  fiction  than 
in  the  Navy  List.  On  the  contrary,  he  was 
the  representative  of  a  much  more  common 
type  which  is  the  antithesis  of  the  conventional 
sailor.  He  was  a  thin,  hard-featured  man, 
with  an  ascetic,  acquiline  cast  of  face,  grizzled 
and  hollow-cheeked,  clean-shaven  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  tiniest  curved  promontory  of  ash- 
colored  whisker.  An  observer,  accustomed  to 
classify  men,  might  have  put  him  down  as  a 
canon  of  the  church  with  a  taste  for  lay  costume 
and  a  country  life,  or  as  the  master  of  a  large 
public  school,  who  joined  his  scholars  in  their 
outdoor  sports.  His  lips  were  firm,  his  chin 
prominent,  he  had  a  hard,  dry  eye,  and  his 
manner  was  precise  and  formal.  Forty  years 
of  stern  discipline  had  made  him  reserved  and 
silent.  Yet,  when  at  his  ease  with  an  equal, 
he  could  readily  assume  a  less  quarter-deck 
style,  and  he  had  a  fund  of  little,  dry  stories  of 
the  world  and  its  ways  which  were  of    interest 


28  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

from  one  who  had  seen  so  many  phases  of  life. 
Dry  and  spare,  as  lean  asa  jockey  and  as  tough 
as  whipcord,  he  might  be  seen  any  day  swing- 
ing his  silver-headed  Malacca  cane,  and  pacing 
along  the  suburban  roads  with  the  same  meas- 
ured gait  with  which  he  had  been  wont  to 
tread  the  poop  of  his  flagship.  He  wore  a 
good  service  stripe  upon  his  cheek,  for  on  one 
side  it  was  pitted  and  scarred  where  a  spurt  of 
gravel  knocked  up  by  a  round-shot  had  struck 
him  thirty  years  before,  when  he  served  in  the 
Lancaster  gun-battery.  Yet  he  was  hale  and 
sound,  and  though  he  was  fifteen  years  senior 
to  his  friend  the  Doctor,  he  might  have  passed 
as  the  younger  man. 

Mrs.  Hay  Denver's  life  had  been  a  very 
broken  one,  and  her  record  upon  land  represent- 
ed a  greater  amount  of  endurance  and  self-sac- 
rifice than  his  upon  the  sea.  They  had  been 
together  for  four  months  after  their  marriage, 
and  then  had  come  a  hiatus  of  four  years, 
during  which  he  was  flitting  about  between  St. 
Helena  and  the  Oil  Rivers  in  a  gunboat.  Then 
came  a  blessed  year  of  peace  and  domesticity, 
to  be  followed  by  nine  years,  with  only  a  three 
months*  break,  five  upon  the  Pacific  station, 
and  four  on  the  East  Indian.  After  that  was  a 
respite  in  the  shape  of  five  years  in  the  Chan- 
nel squadron,  with  periodical  runs  home,  and 
then  again  he  was  off  to  the  Mediterranean  for 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  29 

three  years  and  to  Halifax  for  four.  Now,  at 
last,  however,  this  old  married  couple,  who 
were  still  almost  strangers  to  one  another,  had 
come  together  in  Norwood,  where,  if  their 
short  day  had  been  chequered  and  broken,  the 
evening  at  least  promised  to  be  sweet  and  mel- 
low. In  person  Mrs.  Hay  Denver  was  tall  and 
stout,  with  a  bright,  round,  ruddy-cheeked  face 
still  pretty,  with  a  gracious,  matronly  comeli- 
ness. Her  whole  life  was  a  round  of  devotion 
and  of  love,  which  was  divided  between  her 
husband  and  her  only  son,  Harold. 

This  son  it  was  who  kept  them  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  London,  for  the  Admiral  was  as 
fond  of  ships  and  of  salt  water  as  ever,  and 
was  as  happy  in  the  sheets  of  a  two-ton  yacht 
as  on  the  bridge  of  his  sixteen-knot  monitor. 
Had  he  been  untied,  the  Devonshire  or  Hamp- 
shire coast  would  certainly  have  been  his  choice. 
There  was  Harold,  however,  and  Harold's  in- 
terests were  their  chief  care.  Harold  was  four- 
and-twenty  now.  Three  years  before  he  had  been 
taken  in  hand  by  an  acquaintance  of  his  fath- 
er's, the  head  of  a  considerable  firm  of  stock- 
brokers, and  fairly  launched  upon  'Change. 
His  three  hundred  guinea  entrance  fee  paid, 
his  three  sureties  of  five  hundred  pounds  each 
found,  his  name  approved  by  the  Committee, 
and  all  other  formalities  complied  with,  he 
found  himself  whirling  round,  an    insignificant 


30  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

unit,  in  the  vortex  of  the  money  market  of  the 
world.  There,  under  the  guidance  of  his  father *s 
friend,  he  was  instructed  in  the  mysteries  of 
bulling  and  of  bearing,  in  the  strange  usages 
of  'Change  in  the  intricacies  of  carrying  over 
and  of  transferring.  He  learned  to  know  where 
to  place  his  clients*  money,  which  of  the  job- 
bers would  make  a  price  in  New  Zealands,  and 
which  would  touch  nothing  but  American  rails, 
which  might  be  trusted  and  which  shunned. 
All  this,  and  much  more,  he  mastered,  and  to 
such  purpose  that  he  soon  began  to  prosper,  to 
retain  the  clients  who  had  been  recommended 
to  him,  and  to  attract  fresh  ones.  But  the  work 
was  never  congenial.  He  had  inherited  from 
his  father  his  love  of  the  air  of  heaven,  his 
affection  for  a  manly  and  natural  existence.  To 
act  as  middleman  between  the  pursuer  of 
wealth,  and  the  wealth  which  he  pursued,  or 
to  stand  as  a  human  barometer,  registering  the 
rise  and  fall  of  the  great  mammon  pressure  in 
the  markets,  was  not  the  work  for  which  Prov- 
idence had  placed  those  broad  shoulders  and 
strong  limbs  upon  his  well  knit  frame.  His 
dark  open  face,  too,  with  his  straight  Grecian 
nose,  well  opened  brown  eyes,  and  round  black- 
curled  head,  were  all  those  of  a  man  who  was 
fashioned  for  active  physical  work.  Meanwhile 
he  was  popular  with  his  fellow  brokers,  respect- 
ed by  his  clients,  and  beloved  at  home,  but  his 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  31 

spirit  was  restless  within  him  and  his  mind 
chafed  unceasingly  against  his  surroundings. 

"Do  you  know,  Willy,"  said  Mrs.  Hay  Den- 
ver one  evening  as  she  stood  behind  her  hus- 
band's chair,  with  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder, 
"I  think  sometimes  that  Harold  is  not  quite 
happy. " 

"He  looks  happy,  the  young  rascal,"  an- 
swered the  Admiral,  pointing  with  his  cigar.  It 
was  after  dinner,  and  through  the  open  French 
window  of  the  dining-room  a  clear  view  was 
to  be  had  of  the  tennis  court  and  the  players. 
A  set  had  just  been  finished,  and  young  Charles 
Westmacott  was  hitting  up  the  balls  as  high 
as  he  could  send  them  in  the  middle  of  the 
ground.  Doctor  Walker  and  Mrs.  Westmacott 
were  pacing  up  and  down  the  lawn,  the  lady 
waving  her  racket  as  she  emphasized  her  re- 
marks, and  the  Doctor  listening  with  slanting 
head  and  little  nods  of  agreement.  Against 
the  rails  at  the  near  end  Harold  was  leaning  in 
his  flannels  talking  to  the  two  sisters,  who 
stood  listening  to  him  with  their  long  dark 
shadows  streaming  down  the  lawn  behind  them. 
The  girls  were  dressed  alike  in  dark  skirts, 
with  light  pink  tennis  blouses  and  pink  bands 
on  their  straw  hats,  so  that  as  they  stood  with 
the  soft  red  of  the  setting  sun  tinging  their 
faces,  Clara,  demure  and  quiet,  Ida,  mischiev- 
ous and  daring,  it   was    a    group  which    might 


82  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

have  pleased  the  eye  of  a  more  exacting  critic 
than  the  old  sailor. 

"Yes,  he  looks  happy,  mother,"  he  repeated, 
with  a  chuckle.  "It  is  not  so  long  ago  since 
it  was  you  and  I  who  were  standing  like  that, 
and  I  don' t  remember  that  we  were  very  unhap- 
py either.  It  was  croquet  in  our  time,  and  the 
ladies  had  not  reefed  in  their  skirts  quite  so 
taut.  What  year  would  it  be?  Just  before  the 
commission  of  the  Penelope.'* 

Mrs.  Hay  Denver  ran  her  fingers  through  his 
grizzled  hair.  "It  was  when  you  came  back 
in  the  Antelope^  just  before  you  got  your   step. " 

"Ah,  the  old  Antelope!  What  a  clipper  she 
was!  She  could  sail  two  points  nearer  the 
wind  than  anything  of  her  tonnage  in  the  ser- 
vice. You  remember  her,  mother.  You  saw 
her  come  into  Plymouth  Bay.  Wasn't  she  a 
beauty?" 

"She  was  indeed,  dear.  But  when  I  say  that 
I  think  that  Harold  is  not  happy  I  mean  in  his 
daily  life.  Has  it  never  struck  you  how  thought- 
ful he  is  at  times,  and  how  absent-minded?" 

"In  love  perhaps,  the  young  dog.  He  seems 
to  have  found  snug  moorings  now  at  any  rate. " 

"I  think  that  it  is  very  likely  that  you  are 
right,  Willy,"  answered  the   mother    seriously. 

"But  with  which  of  them?" 

-I  cannot  tell." 

••Well,  they  are  very  charming  girls,  both  of 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  33 

them.  But  as  long  as  he  hangs  in  the  wind 
between  the  two  it  cannot  be  serious.  After 
all,  the  boy  is  four-and-twenty,  and  he  made 
five  hundred  pounds  last  year.  He  is  better 
able  to  marry  than  I  was  when  I  was  lieuten- 
ant. ** 

"I  think  that  we  can  see  which  it  is  now," 
remarked  the  observant  mother.  Charles  West- 
macott  had  ceased  to  knock  the  tennis  balls 
about,  and  was  chatting  with  Clara  Walker, 
while  Ida  and  Harold  Denver  were  still  talk- 
ing by  the  railing  with  little  outbursts  of  laugh- 
ter. Presently  a  fresh  set  was  formed,  and 
Doctor  Walker,  the  odd  man  out,  came  through 
the  wicket  gate  and  strolled  up  the  garden 
walk. 

"Good  evening,  Mrs.  Hay  Denver,"  said  he, 
raising  his  broad  straw  hat.    "May  I  come  in?" 

"Good  evening,  Doctor!     Pray  do!" 

"Try  one  of  these,"  said  the  Admiral,  hold- 
ing out  his  cigar-case.  "They  are  not  bad.  I 
got  them  on  the  Mosquito  Coast.  I  was  think- 
ing of  signaling  to  you,  but  you  seemed  so 
very  happy  out  there." 

"Mrs.  Westmacott  is  a  very  clever  woman," 
said  the  Doctor,  lighting  the  cigar.  "By  the 
way,  you  spoke  about  the  Mosquito  Coast  just 
no;w.  Did  you  see  much  of  the  Ify/a  when  you 
were  out  there?" 

"No  such    name    on   the  list,"  answered  the 


84  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

seaman,  with  decision.  "There's  the  Ifydra,  2l 
harbor  defense  turret-ship,  but  she  never  leaves 
the  home  waters." 

The  Doctor  laughed.  "We  live  in  two  sep- 
arate worlds, "  said  he.  "The  Ify/a  is  the  little 
green  tree  frog,  and  Beale  has  founded  some 
of  his  views  on  protoplasm  upon  the  appear- 
ances of  its  nerve  cells.  It  is  a  subject  in 
which  I  take  an  interest." 

"There  were  vermin  of  all  sorts  in  the  woods. 
When  I  have  been  on  river  service  I  have  heard 
it  at  night  like  the  engine-room  when  you  are 
on  the  measured  mile.  You  can't  sleep  for  the 
piping,  and  croaking,  and  chirping.  Great 
Scott!  what  a  woman  that  is!  She  was  across 
the  lawn  in  three  jumps.  She  would  have  made 
a  captain  of  the  foretop  in  the  old  days." 

"Sh^  is  a  very  remarkable  woman." 

"A  ver}'  cranky  one. " 

"A  very  sensible  one  in  some  things,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Hay  Denver. 

"Look  at  that  now!"  cried  the  Admiral,  with 
a  lunge  of  his  forefinger  at  the  Doctor.  "You 
mark  my  words,  Walker,  if  we  don't  look  out 
that  woman  will  raise  a  mutiny  with  her  preach- 
ing. Here's  my  wife  disaffected  already,  and 
your  girls  will  be  no.  better.  We  must  combine, 
man,  or  there's  an  end  of  all  discipline." 

"No  doubt  she  is  a  little  excessive  in  her 
views,"  said  the  Doctor,  "but  in  the  main  1 
think  as  she  does." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  35 

"Bravo,  Doctor!"  cried  the  lady. 

"What,  turned  traitor  to  your  sex!  We'll 
court-martial  you  as  a  deserter. " 

"She  is  quite  right.  The  professions  are  not 
sufficiently  open  to  women.  They  are  still  far 
too  much  circumscribed  in  their  employments. 
They  are  a  feeble  folk,  the  women  who  have 
to  work  for  their  bread — poor,  unorganized, 
timid,  taking  as  a  favor  what  they  might  de- 
mand as  a  right.  That  is  why  their  case  is  not 
more  constantly  before  the  public,  for  if  their 
cry  for  redress  was  as  great  as  their  grievance 
it  would  fill  the  world  to  the  exclusion  of  all 
others.  It  is  all  very  well  for  us  to  be  courteous 
to  the  rich,  the  refined,  those  to  whom  life  is 
already  made  easy.  It  is  a  mere  form,  a  trick 
of  manner.  If  we  are  truly  courteous,  we  shall 
stoop  to  lift  up  struggling  womanhood  when 
she  really  needs  our  help — when  it  is  life  and 
death  to  her  whether  she  has  it  or  not.  And 
then  to  cant  about  it  being  unwomanly  to  work 
in  the  higher  professions.  It  is  womanly  enough 
to  starve,  but  unwomanly  to  use  the  brains 
which  God  has  given  them.  Is  it  not  a  mon- 
strous contention?" 

The  Admiral  chuckled.  "You  are  like  one 
of  these  phonographs.  Walker,"  said  he;  "you 
have  had  all  this  talked  into  you,  and  now  you 
are  reeling  it  off  again.  It's  rank  mutiny,  every 
word  of  it,  for  man  has  his  duties  and  womaa 


36  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

has  hers,  but  they  are  as  separate  as  their  na- 
tures are.  I  suppose  that  we  shall  have  a 
woman  hoisting  her  pennant  on  the  flagship 
presently,  and  taking  command  of  the  Channel 
Squadron. " 

"Well,  you  have  a  woman  on  the  throne  tak- 
ing command  of  the  whole  nation,"  remarked 
his  wife;  "and  everybody  is  agreed  that  she 
does  it  better  than  any  of  the  men." 

The  Admiral  was  somewhat  staggered  by  this 
home-thrust.  "That's  quite  another  thing," 
said  he. 

"You  should  come  to  their  next  meeting.  I 
am  to  take  the  chair.  I  have  just  promised 
Mrs.  Westmacott  that  I  will  do  so.  But  it  has 
turned  chilly,  and  it  is  time  that  the  girls  were 
indoors.  Good  night!  I  shall  look  out  for 
you  after  breakfast  for  our  constitutional,  Ad- 
miral. '* 

The  old  sailor  looked  after  his  friend  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"How  old  is  he,  mother?" 

"About  fifty,  I  think. " 

"And  Mrs.  Westmacott?'* 

"I  heard  that  she  was  forty- three. " 

The  Admiral  rubbed  his  hands,  and  shook 
with  amusement.  "We'll  find  one  of  these  days 
that  three  and  two  make  one,"  said  he.  "I'll 
bet  you  a  new  bonnet  on  it,  mother. " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  sister's   secret. 

"Tell  me,  Miss  Walker!  You  know  how 
things  should  be.  What  would  you  say  was  a 
good  profession  for  a  young  man  of  twenty-six 
who  has  had  no  education  worth  speaking 
about,  and  who  is  not  very  quick  by  nature?** 
The  speaker  was  Charles  Westmacott,  and  the 
time  this  same  summer  evening  in  the  tennis 
ground,  though  the  shadows  had  fallen  now 
and  the  game  been  abandoned. 

The  girl  glanced  up  at  him,  amused  and  sur- 
prised. 

"Do  you  mean  yourself?'* 

"Precisely." 

"But  how  could  I  tell?" 

"I  have  no  one  to  advise  me.  I  believe  that 
you  could  do  it  better  than  any  one.  I  feel 
confidence  in  your  opinion." 

"It  is  very  flattering."  She  glanced  up  again 
at  his  earnest,  questioning  face,  with  its  Sax- 
on eyes  and  drooping  flaxen  mustache,  in  some 
doubt  as  to  whether  he  might  be  joking.  On 
the  contrary,  all  his  attention  seemed  to  be 
concentrated  upon  her  answer. 

"  It  depends  so  much  upon  what  you  can  do, 
87 


38  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

you  know.  I  do  not  know  you  sufficiently  to 
be  able  to  say  what  natural  gifts  you  have. " 
They  were  walking  slowly  across  the  lawn  in 
the  direction  of  the  house. 

"I  have  none.  That  is  to  say  none  worth 
mentioning.  I  have  no  memory  and  I  am  very 
slow. " 

"But  you  are  very  strong." 

**Oh,  if  that  goes  for  anything.  I  can  put 
up  a  hundred-pound  bar  till  further  orders;  but 
what  sort  of  a  calling  is  that?" 

Some  little  joke  about  being  called  to  the  bar 
flickered  up  in  Miss  Walker's  mind,  but  her 
companion  was  in  such  obvious  earnest  that 
she  stifled  down  her  inclination  to  laugh. 

"I  can  do  a  mile  on  the  cinder-track  in  4:50 
and  across-country  in  5:20,  but  how  is  that  to 
help  me?  I  might  be  a  cricket  professional, 
but  it  is  not  a  very  dignified  position.  Not  that 
I  care  a  straw  about  dignity,  you  know,  but  I 
should  not  like  to  hurt  the  old  lady's  feelings." 

"Your  aunt's?" 

"Yes,  my  aunt's.  My  parents  were  killed  in 
the  Mutiny,  you  know,  when  I  was  a  baby,  and 
she  has  looked  after  me  ever  since.  She  has 
been  very  good  to  me.   I'm  sorry  to  leave  her." 

"But  why  should  you  leave  her?"  They  had 
reached  the  garden  gate,  and  the  girl  leaned 
her  racket  upon  the  top  of  it,  looking  up  with 
grave  interest  at  her  big  white-flanneled  com- 
panion. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  39 

"It's  Browning,"  said  he. 

"What!" 

"Don't  tell  my  aunt  that  I  said  it" — he  sank 
his  voice  to  a  whisper — "I  hate  Browning." 

Clara  Walker  rippled  off  into  such  a  merry 
peal  of  laughter  that  he  forgot  the  evil  things 
which  he  had  suffered  from  the  poet,  and 
burst  out  laughing  too. 

"I  can't  make  him  out,"  said  he.  "I  try,  but 
he  is  one  too  many.  No  doubt  it  is  very 
stupid  of  me;  I  don't  deny  it.  But  as  long  as 
I  cannot  there  is  no  use  pretending  that  I  can. 
And  then  of  course  she  feels  hurt,  for  she  is 
very  fond  of  him,  and  likes  to  read  him  aloud 
in  the  evenings.  She  is  reading  a  piece  now, 
Tippa  Passes,'  and  I  assure  you, Miss  Walker, 
that  I  don't  even  know  what  the  title  means. 
You  must  think  me  a  dreadful  fool. " 

"But  surely  he  is  not  so  incomprehensible  as 
all  that?"  she  said,  as  an  attempt  at  encour- 
agement. 

"He  is  very  bad.  There  are  some  things, 
you  know,  which  are  fine.  That  ride  of  the 
three  Dutchmen,  and  Herv^  Riel  and  others, 
they  are  all  right.  But  there  was  a  piece  we 
read  last  week.  The  first  line  stumped  my  aunt, 
and  it  takes  a  good  deal  to  do  that,  for  she 
rides  very  straight.  'Setebos  and  Setebos  and 
Setebos.'  That  was  the  line." 

"It  sounds  like  a  charm." 


40  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"No,  it  is  a  gentleman's  name.  Three  gen- 
tlemen, I  thought,  at  first,  but  my  aunt  says 
one.  Then  he  goes  on,  'Thinketh  he  dwelleth 
in  the  light  of  the  moon.'  It  was  a  very  try- 
ing piece." 

Clara  Walker  laughed  again. 
"You  must  not  think  of  leaving  your    aunt," 
she  said.      "Think    how    lonely  she    would   be 
without  you." 

"Well,  yes,  I  have  thought  of  that.  But  you 
must  remember  that  my  aunt  is  to  all  intents 
hardly  middle-aged,  and  a  very  eligible  person. 
I  don't  think  that  her  dislike  to  mankind  ex- 
tends to  individuals.  She  might  form  new  ties, 
and  then  I  should  be  a  third  wheel  in  the  coach. 
It  was  all  very  well  as  long  as  I  was  only  a 
boy,  when  her  first  husband  was  alive." 

"But,  good  gracious,  you  don't  mean  that 
Mrs.  Westmacott  is  going  to  marry  again?" 
gasped  Clara. 

The  young  man  glanced  down  at  her  with  a 
question  in  his  eyes  "Oh,  it  is  only  a  remote 
possibility,  you  know,"  said  he.  "Still,  of 
course,  it  might  happen,  and  I  should  like 
to  know  what  I  ought  to  turn  my  hand  to." 

"I  wish  I  could  help  you,"  said  Clara.  "But 
I  really  know  very  little  about  such  things. 
However,  I  could  talk  to  my  father,  who  knows 
a  very  great  deal  of  the  world." 

"I  wish  you  would.      I  should    be  so    glad  if 
you  would." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  41 

"Then  I  certainly  will.  And  now  I  must  say 
good-night,  Mr.  Westmacott,  for  papa  will  be 
wondering  where  I  am." 

"Good  night,  Miss  Walker."  He  pulled  off 
his  flannel  cap,  and  stalked  away  through  the 
gathering  darkness. 

Clara  had  imagined  that  they  had  been  the 
last  on  the  lawn,  but,  looking  back  from  the 
steps  which  led  up  to  the  French  windows,  she 
saw  two  dark  figures  moving  across  towards 
the  house.  As  they  came  nearer  she  could  dis- 
tinguish that  they  were  Harold  Denver  and  her 
sister  Ida.  The  murmur  of  their  voices  rose 
up  to  her  ears,  and  then  the  musical  little 
child-like  laugh  which  she  knew  so  well.  "I 
am  so  delighted,"  she  heard  her  sister  say. 
"So  pleased  and  proud.  I  had  no  idea  of  it. 
Your  words  were  such  a  surprise  and  a  joy  to 
me.     Oh,  I  am  so  glad." 

"Is  that  you,  Ida?" 

"Oh,  there  is  Clara.  I  must  go  in,  Mr. 
Denver.    Good-night!" 

There  were  a  few  whispered  words,  a  laugh 
from  Ida,  and  a  "Good-night,  Miss  Walker," 
out  of  the  darkness.  Clara  took  her  sister's 
hand,  and  they  passed  together  through  the 
long  folding  window.  The  Doctor  had  gone 
into  his  study,  and  the  dining-room  was  empty. 
A  single  small  red  lamp  upon  the  sideboard 
was  reflected  tenfold  by  the  plate  about  it  and 


43  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

the  mahogany  beneath  it,  though  its  single 
wick  cast  but  a  feeble  light  into  the  large,  dimly 
shadowed  room.  Ida  danced  off  to  the  big 
central  lamp,  but  Clara  put  her  hand  upon  her 
arm.  "I  rather  like  this  quiet  light,"  said  she. 
"Why  should  we  not  have  a  chat?"  She  sat 
in  the  Doctor's  large  red  plush  chair,  and  her 
sister  cuddled  down  upon  the  footstool  at  her 
feet,  glancing  up  at  her  elder  with  a  smile  upon 
her  lips  and  a  mischievous  gleam  in  her  eyes. 
There  was  a  shade  of  anxiety  in  Clara's  face, 
which  cleared  away  as  she  gazed  into  her  sis- 
ter's frank  blue  eyes. 

"Have  you  anything  to  tell  me,  dear?"  she 
asked. 

Ida  gave  a  little  pout  and  shrug  to  her 
shoulder.  "The  Solicitor-General  then  opened 
the  case  for  the  prosecution,"  said  she.  "You 
are  going  to  cross-examine  me,  Clara,  so  don't 
deny  it.  I  do  wish  you  would  have  that  grey 
satin  foulard  of  yours  done  up.  With  a  little 
trimming  and  a  new  white  vest  it  would  look 
as  good  as  new,  and   it  is    really  very  dowdy." 

"You  were  quite  late  upon  the  lawn,"  said 
the  inexorable  Clara. 

"Yes,  I  was  rather.  So  were  you.  Have  you 
anything  to  tell  me?"  She  broke  away  into  her 
merry  musical  laugh. 

"I  was  chatting  with  Mr.  Westmacott." 

''And  I  was  chatting  with  Mr.  Denver.      By 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  43 

the  way,  Clara,  now  tell  me  truly,  what  do  you 
think  of  Mr.  Denver?  Do  you  like  him?  Hon- 
estly now!'* 

"I  like  him  very  much  indeed.  I  think  that 
he  is  one  of  the  most  gentlemanly,  modest,  manly 
young  men  that  I  have  ever  known.  So  now, 
dear,  have  you  nothing  to  tell  me?"  Clara 
smoothed  down  her  sister's  golden  hair  with  a 
motherly  gesture,  and  stooped  her  face  to  catch 
the  expected  confidence.  She  could  wish  noth- 
ing better  than  that  Ida  should  be  the  wife  of 
Harold  Denver,  and  from  the  words  which  she 
had  overheard  as  they  left  the  lawn  that  even- 
ing, she  could  not  doubt  that  there  was  some 
understanding  between  them. 

But  there  came  no  confession  from  Ida. 
Only  the  same  mischievous  smile  and  amused 
gleam  in  her  deep  blue  eyes. 

"That  grey  foulard  dress "  she  began. 

"Oh,  you  little  tease!  Come  now,  I  will  ask 
you  what  you  have  just  asked  me.  Do  you  like 
Harold  Denver?" 

"Oh,  he's  a  darling!" 

"Ida!" 

"Well,  you  asked  me.  That's  what  I  think 
of  him.  And  now,  you  dear  old  inquisitive, 
you  will  get  nothing  more  out  of  me;  so  you 
must  wait  and  not  be  too  curious.  I'm  going 
off  to  see  what  papa  is  doing."  She  sprang  ta 
her    feet,  threw  her    arms    round    her  sister's 


44  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

neck,  gave  her  a  final  squeeze,  and  was  gone. 
A  chorus  from  Olivette,  sung  in  her  clear  con- 
tralto, grew  fainter  and  fainter  until  it  ended 
in  the  slam  of  a  distant  door. 

But  Clara  Walker  still  sat  in  the  dim-lit  room 
with  her  chin  upon  her  hands,  and  her  dreamy 
eyes  looking  out  into  the  gathering  gloom.  It 
was  the  duty  of  her,  a  maiden,  to  play  the  part 
of  a  mother — to  guide  another  in  paths  which 
her  own  steps  had  not  yet  trodden.  Since  her 
mother  died  not  a  thought  had  been  given  to 
herself,  all  was  for  her  father  and  her  sister. 
In  her  own  eyes  she  was  herself  very  plain, 
and  she  knew  that  her  manner  was  often  up 
gracious  when  she  would  most  wish  to  be  gra- 
cious. She  saw  her  face  as  the  glass  reflected 
it,  but  she  did  not  see  the  changing  play  of  ex- 
pression which  gave  it  its  charm — the  infinite 
pity,  the  sympathy,  the  sweet  womanliness 
which  drew  towards  her  all  who  were  in  doubt 
and  in  trouble,  even  as  poor  slow-moving 
Charles  Westmacott  had  been  drawn  to  her 
that  night.  She  was  herself,  she  thought,  out- 
side the  pale  of  love.  But  it  was  very  differ- 
ent with  Ida,  merry,  little,  quick-witted,  bright- 
faced  Ida.  She  was  born  for  love.  It  washer 
inheritance.  But  she  was  young  and  innocent. 
She  must  not  be  allowed  to  venture  too  far 
without  help  in  those  dangerous  waters.  Some 
understanding  there  was  between  her  and  Har- 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  45 

old  Denver.  In  her  heart  of  hearts  Clara,  like 
every  good  woman,  was  a  match-maker,  and 
already  she  had  chosen  Denver  of  all  men  as 
the  one  to  whom  she  could  most  safely  confide 
Ida.  He  had  talked  to  her  more  than  once  on 
the  serious  topics  of  life,  on  his  aspirations, 
on  what  a  man  could  do  to  leave  the  world 
better  for  his  presence.  She  knew  that  he  was 
a  man  of  a  noble  nature,  high-minded  and 
earnest.  And  yet  she  did  not  like  this  secrecy, 
this  disinclination  upon  the  part  of  one  so 
frank  and  honest  as  Ida  to  tell  her  what  was 
passing.  She  would  wait,  and  if  she  got  the 
opportunity  next  day  she  would  lead  Harold 
Denver  himself  on  to  this  topic.  It  was  possi- 
ble that  she  might  learn  from  him  what  her 
sister  had  refused  to  tell  her. 


CHAPTER    V. 

A  NAVAL  CONQUEST. 

It  was  the  habit  of  the  Doctor  and  the  Ad- 
miral to  accompany  each  other  upon  a  morning 
ramble  between  breakfast  and  lunch.  The 
dwellers  in  those  quiet  tree-lined  roads  were  ac- 
customed to  seethe  two  figures,  the  long,  thin, 
austere  seaman,  and  the  short,  bustling,  tweed- 


46  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

clad  physician,  pass  and  repass  with  such  reg- 
ularity that  a  stopped  clock  has  been  reset  by 
them.  The  Admiral  took  two  steps  to  his  com- 
panion's three,  but  the  younger  man  was  the 
quicker,  and  both  were  equal  to  a  good  four 
and  a  half  miles  an  hour. 

It  was  a  lovely  summer  day  which  followed 
the  events  which  have  been  described.  The 
sky  was  of  the  deepest  blue,  with  a  few  white, 
fleecy  clouds  drifting  lazily  across  it,  and  the 
air  was  filled  with  the  low  drone  of  insects  or 
with  a  sudden  sharper  note  as  bee  or  bluefly 
shot  past  with  its  quivering,  long-drawn  hum, 
like  an  insect  tuning-fork.  As  the  friends 
topped  each  rise  which  leads  up  to  the  Crystal 
Palace,  they  could  see  the  dun  clouds  of  Lon- 
don stretching  along  the  northern  sky-line,  with 
spire  or  dome  breaking  through  the  low-lying 
haze.  The  Admiral  was  in  high  spirits,  for  the 
morning  post  had  brought  good  news  to  his 
son. 

"It  is  wonderful.  Walker,"  he  was  saying, 
"positively  wonderful,  the  way  that  boy  of  mine 
has  gone  ahead  during  the  last  three  years. 
We  heard  from  Pearson  to-day.  Pearson  is  the 
senior  partner,  you  know,  and  my  boy  the  jun- 
ior— Pearson  and  Denver  the  firm.  Cunning  old 
dog  is  Pearson,  as  cute  and  as  greedy  as  a  Rio 
shark.  Yet  he  goes  off  for  a  fortnight's  leave, 
and  puts  my  boy  in   full  charge,  with   all  that 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  47 

immense  business  in  his  hands,  and  a  free  hand 
Jo  do  what  he  likes  with  it.  How's  that  for 
confidence,  and  he  only  three  years  upon 
'Change?" 

"Any  one  would  confide  in  him.  His  face 
is  a  surety,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"Go  on.  Walker!"  The  Admiral  dug  his 
elbow  at  him.  "You  know  my  weak  side.  Still 
it's  truth  all  the  same.  I've  been  blessed  with 
a  good  wife  and  a  good  son,  and  maybe  I 
relish  them  the  more  for  having  been  cut  off 
from  them  so  long.  I  have  much  to  be  thank- 
ful for!" 

"And  so  have  I.  The  best  two  girls  that  ever 
stepped.  There's  Clara,  who  has  learned  up 
as  much  medicine  as  would  give  her  the 
L.S.A.,  simply  in  order  that  she  may  sympa- 
thize with  me  in  my  work.  But  hullo,  what  is 
this  coming  along?" 

"All  drawing  and  the  wind  astern!"  cried  the 
Admiral.  "Fourteen  knots  if  it's  one.  Why,  by 
George,  it  is  that  woman!" 

A  rolling  cloud  of  yellow  dust  had  streamed 
round  the  curve  of  the  road,  and  from  the  heart 
of  it  had  emerged  a  high  tandem  tricycle  flying 
along  at  a  breakneck  pace.  In  front  sat  Mrs. 
Westmacott  clad* in  a  heather  tweed  pea-jacket, 
a  skirt  which  ju?"*  passed  her  knees  and  a  pair 
of  thick  gaiters  of  the  same  material.  She  had 
a  great  bundle  of  red   papers    under   her  arm. 


48  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

while  Charles,  who  sat  behind  her  clad  in  Nor- 
folk jacket  and  knickerbockers,  bore  a  similar 
roll  protruding  from  either  pocket.  Even  as 
they  watched,  the  pair  eased  up,  the  lady 
sprang  off,  impaled  one  of  her  bills  upon  the 
garden  railing  of  an  empty  house,  and  then 
jumping  on  to  her  seat  again  was  about  to  hurry 
onwards  when  her  nephew  drew  her  attention 
to  the  two  gentlemen  upon  the  footpath. 

"Oh,  now,  really  I  didn't  notice  you,"  said 
she,  taking  a  few  turns  of  the  treadle  and  steer- 
ing the  machine  across  to  them.  "Is  it  not  a 
beautiful  morning?'* 

"Lovely,"  answered  the  Doctor.  "You  seem 
to  be  very  busy." 

"I  a?n  very  busy/* She  pointed  to  the  colored 
paper  which  still  fluttered  from  the  railing. 
**We  have  been  pushing  our  propaganda,  you 
see.  Charles  and  I  have  been  at  it  since  seven 
o'clock.  It  is  about  our  meeting.  I  wish  it 
to  be  a  great  success.  See!"  She  smoothed 
out  one  of  the  bills,  and  the  Doctor  read  his 
own  name  in  great  black  letters  across  the 
bottom. 

"We  don't  forget  our  chairman,  you  see. 
Everybody  is  coming.  Those  two  dear  little 
old  maids  opposite,  the  Williamses,  held  out 
for  some  time;  but  I  have  their  promise  now. 
Admiral,  I  am  sure  that  you  wish  us  well. " 

"Hum!     I  wish  you  no  harm,  ma'am." 

"You  will  come  on  the  platform?" 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  49 

"I'll   be No,    I    don't  think  I    can    do 

that. " 

"To  our  meeting,  then?" 

"No,  ma'am;   I  don't  go  out  after  dinner." 

"Oh  yes,  you  will  come.  I  will  call  in  if  I 
may,  and  chat  it  over  with  you  when  you  come 
home.  We  have  not  breakfasted  yet.  Good- 
bye!" There  was  a  whir  of  wheels,  and  the 
yellow  cloud  rolled  away  down  the  road  again. 
By  some  legerdemain  the  Admiral  found  that 
he  was  clutching  in  his  right  hand  one  of  the 
obnoxious  bills.  He  crumpled  it  up,  and  threw 
it  into  the  roadway. 

"I'll  be  hanged  if  I  go,  Walker,"  said  he,  as 
he  resumed  his  walk.  "I've  never  been  husjtled 
into  doing  a  thing  yet,  whether  by  woman  or 
man. " 

"I  am  not  a  betting  man, "  answered  the  Doc- 
toi  "but  I  rather  think  that  the  odds  are  in 
favor  of  your  going." 

The  Admiral  had  hardly  got  home,  and  had 
just  seated  himself  in  his  dining-room,  when 
the  attack  upon  him  was  renewed.  He  was 
siowly  and  lovingly  unfolding  the  Times  pre- 
paratory to  the  long  read  which  led  up  to 
luncheon,  and  had  even  got  so  far  as  to  fasten 
his  golden  pince-nez  on  to  his  thin, high-bridged 
nose,  when  he  heard  a  crunching  of  gravel, 
and,  looking  over  the  top  of  his  paper,  saw 
Mrs.  Westmacott  coming  up  the    garden  walk. 


90  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

She  was  still  dressed  in  the  singular  costume 
which  offended  the  sailor's  old-fashioned  notions 
of  propriety,  but  he  could  not  deny,  as  he  looked 
at  her,  that  she  was  a  very  fine  woman.  In 
many  climes  he  had  looked  upon  women  of  all 
shades  and  ages,  but  never  upon  a  more  clear- 
cut,  handsome  face,  nor  a  more  erect,  supple, 
and  womanly  figure.  He  ceased  to  glower  as 
he  gazed  upon  her,  and  the  frown  smoothed 
away  from  his  rugged  brow. 

"May  I  come  in?"  said  she,  framing  herself 
in  the  open  window,  with  a  background  of 
green  sward  and  blue  sky.  *'I  feel  like  an  in- 
vader deep  in  an  enemy's  country." 

"It  is  a  very  welcome  invasion,  ma'am,"  said 
he,  clearing  his  throat  and  pulling  at  his  high 
collar.  "Try  this  garden  chair.  What  is  there 
that  I  can  do  for  you?  Shall  I  ring  and  let 
Mrs.  Denver  know  that  you  are  here?" 

"Pray  do  not  trouble.  Admiral.  I  only  looked 
in  with  reference  to  our  little  chat  this  morn- 
ing. I  wish  that  you  would  give  us  your  pow- 
erful support  at  our  coming  meeting  for  the  im- 
provement of  the  condition  of  woman. " 

"No,  ma'am,  I  can't  do  that."  He  pursed 
up   his  lips  and  shook  his  grizzled  head. 

"And  why  not?" 

"Against  my  principles,  ma'am." 

"But  why?" 

"Because  woman  has  her  duties  and  man  has 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  51 

his.  I  may  be  old-fashioned,  but  that  is  my 
view.  Why,  what  is  the  world  coming  to?  I 
was  saying  to  Dr.  Walker  only  last  night  that 
we  shall  have  a  woman  wanting  to  command 
the  Channel  Fleet  next." 

"That  is  one  of  the  few  professions  which 
cannot  be  improved,"  said  Mrs.  Westmacott, 
with  her  sweetest  smile.  "Poor  woman  must 
still  look  to  man  for  protection." 

"I  don't  like  these  new-fangled  ideas,  ma'am. 
I  tell  you  honestly  that  I  don't.  I  like  disci- 
pline, -and  I  think  every  one  is  the  better  for 
it.  Women  have  got  a  great  deal  which  they 
had  not  in  the  days  of  our  fathers.  They 
have  universities  all  for  themselves,  I  am  told, 
and  there  are  women  doctors,  I  hear.  Surely 
they  should  rest  contented.  What  more  can 
they  want?" 

"You  are  a  sailor,  and  sailors  are  always  chiv- 
alrous. If  you  could  see  how  things  really  are, 
you  would  change  your  opinion  What  are  the 
poor  things  to  do?  There  are  so  many  of  them 
and  so  few  things  to  which  they  can  turn  their 
hands.  Governesses?  But  there  are  hardly 
any  situations.  Music  and  drawing?  There 
is  not  one  in  fifty  who  has  any  special  talent 
in  that  direction.  Medicine?  It  is  still  sur- 
rounded with  difficulties  for  women,  and  it 
takes  many  years  and  a  small  fortune  to  qualify. 
Nursing?     It  is  hard  work  ill   paid,    and  none 


52  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

but  the  strongest  can  stand  it.  What  would 
you  have  them  do  then,  Admiral?  Sit  down 
and  starve?" 

"Tut,  tut!  It  is  not  so  bad  as  that." 
"The  pressure  is  terrible.  Advertise  for  a 
lady  companion  at  ten  shillings  a  week,  which 
is  less  than  a  cook's  wage,  and  see  how  many 
answers  you  get.  There  is  no  hope,  no  out- 
look, for  these  struggling  thousands.  Life  is  a 
dull,  sordid  struggle,  leading  down  to  a  cheer- 
less old  age.  Yet  when  we  try  to  bring  some 
little  ray  of  hope,  some  chance,  however  dis- 
tant, of  something  better,  we  are  told  by  chiv- 
alrous gentlemen  that  it  is  against  their  prin- 
ciples to  help." 

The  Admiral  winced,  but  shook   his  head  in 
dissent. 

"There  is  banking,  the  law,  veterinary  sur- 
gery, government  offices,  the  civil  service,  all 
these  at  least  should  be  thrown  freely  open  to 
women,  if  they  have  brains  enough  to  compete 
successfully  for  them.  Then  if  woman  were 
unsuccessful  it  would  be  her  own  fault,  and 
the  majority  of  the  population  of  this  country 
could  no  longer  complain  that  they  live  under 
a  different  law  to  the  minority,  and  that  they 
are  held  down  in  poverty  and  serfdom,  with 
every  road  to  independence  sealed  to  them." 
"What  would  you  propose  to  do,  ma'am?" 
"To  set  the  more    obvious    injustices    right. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  53 

and  so  to  pave  the  way  for  a  reform.  Now 
look  at  that  man  digging  in  the  field.  I  know 
him.  He  can  neither  read  nor  write,  he  is 
steeped  in  whisky,  and  he  has  as  much  intelli- 
gence as  the  potatoes  that  he  is  digging.  Yet 
the  man  has  a  vote,  can  possibly  turn  the  scale 
of  an  electiofi,  and  may  help  to  decide  the  pol- 
icy of  this  empire.  Now,  to  take  the  nearest 
example,  here  am  I,  a  woman  who  have  had 
some  education,  who  have  traveled,  and  who 
have  seen  and  studied  the  institutions  of  many 
countries.  I  hold  considerable  property,  and 
I  pay  more  in  imperial  taxes  than  that  man 
spends  in  whisky,  which  is  saying  a  great 
deal,  and  yet  I  have  no  more  direct  influence 
upon  the  disposal  of  the  money  which  I  pay 
than  that  fly  which  creeps  along  the  wall.  Is 
that  right?     Is  it  fair?" 

The  Admiral   moved    uneasily    in  his  chair. 
"Yours  is  an  exceptional  case, "  said  he. 

"But  no  woman  has  a  voice.  Consider  that, 
the  women  are  a  majority  in  the  nation.  Yet 
if  there  was  a  question  of  legislation  upon 
which  all  women  were  agreed  upon  one  side 
and  all  the  men  upon  the  other,  it  would  ap- 
pear that  the  matter  was  settled  unanimously 
when  more  than  half  the  population  were  op- 
posed to  it.      Is  that  right?" 

Again    the   Admiral    wriggled.      It    was  very 
awkward  for  the    gallant    seaman     to    have   a 


54  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

handsome  woman  opposite  to  him,  bombard- 
ing him  with  questions  to  none  of  which  he 
could  find  an  answer.  "Couldn't  even  get  the 
tompions  out  of  his  guns,"  as  he  explained 
the  matter  to  the  Doctor  that  evening. 

"Now  those  are  really  the  points  that  we 
shall  lay  stress  upon  at  the  meeting.  The  free 
and  complete  opening  of  the  professions,  the 
final  abolition  of  the  zenana  I  call  it,  and  the 
franchise  to  all  women  who  pay  Queen's  taxes 
above  a  certain  sum.  Surely  there  is  nothing 
imreasonable  in  that.  Nothing  which  could 
offend  your  principles.  We  shall  have  medi- 
cine, law,  and  the  church  all  rallying  that  night 
for  the  protection  of  woman.  Is  the  navy  to 
be  the  one  profession  absent?" 

The  Admiral  jumped  out  of  his  chair  with  an 
<evil  word  in  his  throat.  "There,  there,  ma'am." 
he  cried.  "Drop  it  for  a  time.  I  have  heard 
enough.  You've  turned  me  a  point  or  two  I 
won't  deny  it.  But  let  it  stand  at  that.  I  will 
think  it  over." 

"Certainly,  Admiral.  We  would  not  hurr> 
you  in  your  decision.  But  we  still  hope  to  see 
you  on  our  platform."  She  rose  and  moved 
about  in  her  lounging  masculine  fashion  from 
one  picture  to  another,  for  the  walls  were 
thickly  covered  with  reminiscences  of  the  Ad- 
niiral's  voyages. 

"Hullo!"   said  she.      "Surely  this  ship  would 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  65 

have  furled  all  her  lower  canvas  and  reefed  her 
topsails  if  she  found  herself  on  a  lee  shore 
with  the  wind  on  her  quarter." 

"Of  course  she  would.  The  artist  was  never 
past  Gravesend,  I  swear.  It's  the  Penelope  as 
she  was  on  the  14th  of  June,  1857,  in  the  throat 
of  the  Straits  of  Banca,with  the  Island  of  Ban. 
ca  on  the  starboard  bow,  and  Sumatra  on  the 
port.  He  painted  it  from  description,  but  of 
course,  as  you  very  sensibly  say,  all  was  snug 
below  and  she  carried  storm  sails  and  double- 
reefed  topsails,  for  it  was  blowing  a  cyclone 
from  the  sou' east.  I  compliment  you,  ma'am, 
I  do  indeed!" 

"Oh,  I  have  done  a  little  sailoring    myself — 
as    much    as    a   woman    can    aspire    to,    you 
know.     This  is    the  Bay  of  Funchal.     What  a 
lovely  frigate!" 

"Lovely,  you  say!  Ah,  she  was  lovely!  That 
is  the  Andro7neda.  I  was  a  mate  aboard  of  her 
— sub-lieutenant  they  call  it  now,  though  I  like 
the  old  name  best. " 

"What  a  lovely  rake  her  masts  have,  and 
what  a  curve  to  her  bows!  She  must  have  been 
a  clipper." 

The  old  sailor  rubbed  his  hands  and  his  eyes 
glistened.  His  old  ships  bordered  close  upon 
his  wife  and  his  son  in  his  affections. 

"I  know  Funchal,"  said  the  lady  carelessly. 
"A  couple    of   years    ago    I    had  a    seven- ton 


56  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

cutter-rigged  yacht,  the  Banshee^  and  we  ran  over 
to  Madeira  from  Falmouth." 

"You,  ma'am,  in  a  seven-tonner?" 

"With  a  couple  of  Cornish  lads  for  a  crew. 
Oh,  it  was  glorious!  A  fortnight  right  out  in 
the  open,  with  no  worries,  no  letters,  no  callers, 
no  petty  thoughts,  nothing  but  the  grand  works 
of  God,  the  tossing  sea  and  the  great  silent 
sky.  They  talk  of  riding,  indeed,  I  am  fond 
of  horses,  too,  but  what  is  there  to  compare 
with  the  swoop  of  a  little  craft  as  she  pitches 
down  the  long  steep  side  of  a  wave,  and  then 
the  quiver  and  spring  as  she  is  tossed  upwards 
again?  Oh,  if  our  souls  could  transmigrate  I'd 
be  a  seamew  above  all  birds  that  fly!  But  I 
keep  you,   Admiral.      Adieu!" 

The  old  sailor  was  too  transported  with  sym- 
pathy to  say  a  word.  He  could  only  shake  her 
broad  muscular  hand.  She  was  half-way  down 
the  garden  path  before  she  heard  him  calling 
her,  and  saw  his  grizzled  head  and  weather- 
stained  face  looking  out  from  behind  the 
curtains. 

"You  may  put  me  down  for  the  platform," 
he  cried,  and  vanished  abashed  behind  the  cur- 
tain  of  his  Times,  where  his  wife  found  him  ^t 
lunch  time. 

"I  hear  that  you  have  had  quite  a  long  chat 
with  Mrs.  Westmacott, "  said  she. 

"Yes,  and  I  think  that  she  is  one  of  the 
most  sensible  women  that  I  ever.  knew. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  Ul 

Except  on  the    woman's  rights  question,  oj 
course. " 

**Oh,  I  don't  know.  She  had  a  good  deal 
to  say  for  herself  on  that  also.  In  fact,  mother, 
I  have  taken  a  platfom  ticket  for  her  meeting.  '* 


CHAPTER  VI. 


AN  OLD   STORY. 


But  this  was  not  to  be  the  only  eventful  con- 
versation which  Mrs.  Westmacott  held  that  day, 
nor  was  the  Admiral  the  only  person  in  the 
Wilderness  who  was  destined  to  find  his  opin- 
ions considerably  changed.  Two  neighboring 
families,  the  Winslows  from  Anerley,  and  the 
Cumberbatches  from  Gipsy  Hill,  had  been  in- 
vited to  tennis  by  Mrs.  Westmacott,  and  the 
lawn  was  gay  in  the  evening  with  the  blazers 
of  the  young  men  and  the  bright  dresses  of  the 
girls.  To  the  older  people,  sitting  round  in 
their  wicker-work  garden  chairs,  the  darting, 
stooping,  springing  white  figures,  the  sweep  of 
skirts,  and  twinkle  of  canvas  shoes,  the  click 
of  the  rackets  and  sharp  whiz  of  the  balls, 
with  the  continual  "fifteen  love — fifteen  all!" 
of  the  marker,  made  up  a  merry  and  exhilarat- 
ing scene.  To  see  their  sons  and  daughters  so 
flushed  and  healthy  and  happy,  gave  them  also 


58  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

a  reflected  glow,  and  it  was  hard  to  say  who 
had  most  pleasure  from  the  game,  those  who 
played  or  those  who  watched. 

Mrs.  Westmacott  had  just  finished  a  set  when 
she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Clara  Walker  sitting 
alone  at  the  farther  end  of  the  ground.  She 
ran  down  the  court,  cleared  the  net  to  the 
amazement  of  the  visitors,  and  seated  herself 
beside  her.  Clara's  reserved  and  refined  nature 
shrank  somewhat  from  the  boisterous  frankness 
and  strange  manners  of  the  widow,  and  yet 
her  feminine  instinct  told  her  that  beneath  all 
her  peculiarities  there  lay  much  that  was  good 
and  noble.  She  smiled  up  at  her,  therefore,  and 
nodded  a  greeting. 

"Why  aren't  you  playing,  then?  Don't,  for 
goodness'  sake,  begin  to  be  languid  and  young 
ladyish!  When  you  give  up  active  sports  you 
give  up  youth. " 

"I  have  played  a  set,  Mrs.  Westmacott." 

"That's  right, 'my  dear."  She  sat  down  be- 
side her,  and  tapped  her  upon  the  arm  with 
her  tennis  racket.  "I  like  you,  my  dear,  and 
I  am  going  to  call  you  Clara.  You  are  not  as 
aggressive  as  I  should  wish,  Clara,  but  still 
I  like  you  very  much.  Self-sacrifice  is  all  very 
well,  you  know,  but  we  have  had  rather  too 
much  of  it  on  our  side,  and  should  like  to  see 
a  little  on  the  other.  What  do  you  think  of 
my  nephew  Charles?" 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  59 

The  question  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected 
that  Clara  gave  quite  a  jump  in  her  chair.  "I — 
I — I  hardly  ever  have  thought  of  your  nephew 
Charles. " 

"No?  Oh,  you  must  think  him  well  over, 
for  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  him." 

"To  me?     But  why?" 

"It  seemed  to  me  most  delicate.  You  see, 
Clara,  the  matter  stands  in  this  way.  It  is  quite 
possible  that  I  may  soon  find  myself  in  a  com- 
pletely new  sphere  of  life,  which  will  involve 
fresh  duties  and  make  it  impossible  for  me 
to  keep  up  a  household  which  Charles  can 
share. " 

Clara  stared.  Did  this  mean  that  she  was 
about  to  marry  again?  What  else  could  it 
point  to? 

"Therefore  Charles  must  have  a  household  of 
his  own.  That  is  obvious.  Now,  I  don't  ap- 
prove of  bachelor  establishments.     Do  you?" 

"Really,  Mrs.  Westmacott,  I  have  never 
thought  of  the  matter." 

"Oh,  you  little  sly  puss!  Was  there  ever  a 
girl  who  never  thought  of  the  matter?  I  think 
that  a  young  man  of  six-and-twenty  ought  to 
be  married." 

Clara  felt  very  uncomfortable.  The  awful 
thought  had  come  upon  her  that  this  ambassa- 
dress had  come  to  her  as  a  proxy  with  a  pro- 
posal of  marriage.     But    how  could    that    be? 


CO  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

She  had  not  spoken  more  than  three  or  four 
times  with  her  nephew,  and  knew  nothing  more 
of  him  than  he  had  told  her  on  the  evening 
before.  It  was  impossible,  then.  And  yet  what 
could  his  aunt  mean  by  this  discussion  of  his 
private  affairs? 

"Do  you  not  think  yourself,"  she  persisted, 
"that  a  young  man  of  six-and-twenty  is  better 
married?" 

"I  should  think  that  he  is  old  enough  to  de- 
cide for  himself." 

"Yes,  yes.  He  has  done  so.  But  Charles  is 
just  a  little  shy,  just  a  little  slow  in  express- 
ing himself.  I  thought  that  I  would  pave  the 
way  for  him.  Two  women  can  arrange  these 
things  so  much  better.  Men  sometimes  have 
a  difficulty  in  making  themselves  clear." 

"I  really  hardly  follow  you,  Mrs.  West- 
macott,"  cried  Clara  in  despair. 

"He  has  no  profession.  But  he  has  nice 
tastes.  He  reads  Browning  every  night.  And 
he  is  most  amazingly  strong.  When  he  was 
younger  we  used  to  put  on  the  gloves  together, 
but  I  cannot  persuade  him  to  now,  for  he  says 
he  cannot  play  light  enough.  I  should  allow 
him  five  hundred,  which  should  be  enough  at 
first. " 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Westmacott,"  cried  Clara,  "I 
assure  you  that  I  have  not  the  least  idea  what 
it  is  that  you  are  talking  of. " 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  61 

"Do  you  think  your  sister  Ida  would  have 
my  nephew  Charles?" 

Her  sister  Ida?  Quite  a  little  thrill  of  relief 
and  of  pleasure  ran  through  her  at  the  thought. 
Ida  and  Charles  Westmacott.  She  had  never 
thought  of  it.  And  yet  they  had  been  a  good 
deal  together.  They  had  played  tennis.  They 
had  shared  the  tandem  tricycle.  Again  came 
the  thrill  of  joy,  and  close  at  its  heels  the  cold 
questionings  of  conscience.  Why  this  joy? 
What  was  the  real  source  of  it?  Was  it  that 
deep  down,  somewhere  pushed  back  in  the 
black  recesses  of  the  soul,  there  was  the  thought 
lurking  that  if  Charles  prospered  in  his  wooing 
then  Harold  Denver  would  still  be  free?  How 
mean,  how  unmaidenly,  how  unsisterly  the 
thought!  She  crushed  it  down  and  thrust  it 
aside,  but  still  it  would  push  up  its  wicked 
little  head.  She  crimsoned  with  shame  at  her 
own  baseness,  as  she  turned  once  more  to  her 
companion. 

"I  really  do  not  know,"  she  said. 

"She  is  not  engaged?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of." 

"You  speak  hesitatingly." 

"Because  I  am  not  sure.  But  he  may  ask. 
She  cannot  but  be  flattered." 

"Quite  so.  I  tell  him  that  it  is  the  most 
practical  compliment  which  a  man  can  pay 
to  a  woman.      He  is  a  little  shy,  but    when  he 


«2  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

sets  himself  to  do  it  he  will  do  it.  He  is  very 
much  in  love  with  her,  I  assure  you  These 
little  lively  people  always  do  attract  the  slow 
and  heavy  ones,  which  is  nature's  device  for 
the  neutralizing  of  bores.  But  they  are  all  go- 
ing in.  I  think  if  you  will  allow  me  that  I 
will  just  take  the  opportunity  to  tell  him  that, 
as  far  as  you  know,  there  is  no  positive  obsta- 
cle in  the  way." 

"As  far  as  I  know,"  Clara  repeated,  as  the 
widow  moved  away  to  where  the  players  were 
grouped  round  the  net,  or  sauntering  slowly 
towards  the  house.  She  rose  to  follow  her,  but 
her  head  was  in  a  whirl  with  new  thoughts,  and 
she  sat  down  again.  Which  would  be  best  for 
Ida,  Harold  or  Charles?  She  thought  it  over 
with  as  much  solicitude  as  a  mother  who  plans 
for  her  only  child.  Harold  had  seemed  to  her 
to  be  in  many  ways  the  noblest  and  the  best 
young  man  whom  she  had  known.  If  ever  she 
was  to  love  a  man  it  would  be  such  a  man  as 
that.  But  she  must  not  think  of  herself.  Shti 
had  reason  to  believe  that  both  these  men  loved 
her  sister.  Which  would  be  the  best  for  her? 
But  perhaps  the  matter  was  already  decided. 
She  could  not  forget  the  scrap  of  conversation 
which  she  had  heard  the  night  before,  nor  the 
secret  which  her  sister  had  refused  to  confide 
to  her.  If  Ida  would  not  tell  her,  there  was 
but  one  person  who  could.   She  raised  her  eyes 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  65 

and  there  was  Harold  Denver  standing  before 
her. 

"You  were  lost  in  your  thoughts,"  said  he, 
smiling.    "I  hope  that  they  were  pleasant  ones. '* 

"Oh,  I  was  planning,"  said  she,  rising.  "It 
seems  rather  a  waste  of  time  as  a  rule,  for 
things  have  a  way  of  working  themselves  out 
just  as  you  least  expect." 

"What  were  you  planning,  then?" 

"The  future." 

"Whose?" 

"Oh,  my  own  and  Ida's." 

"And  was  I  included  in  your  joint  futures? 

"I  hope  all  our  friends  were  included." 

"Don't  go  in,"  said  he,  as  she  began  to  move 
slowly  towards  the  house.  "I  wanted  to  have 
a  word.  Let  us  stroll  up  and  down  the  lawn. 
Perhaps  you  are  cold.  If  you  are,  I  could  bring 
you  out  a  shawl." 

"Oh,  no,  I  am  not  cold." 

"I  was  speaking  to  your  sister  Ida  last  night." 
She  noticed  that  there  was  a  slight  quiver  in 
his  voice,  and,  glancing  up  at  his  dark,  clear- 
cut  face,  she  saw  that  he  was  very  grave.  She 
felt  that  it  was  settled,  that  he  had  come  to 
ask  her  for  her  sister's  hand. 

"She  is  a  charming  girl,"  said  he,  after  a 
pause. 

"Indeed  she  is,"  cried  Clara  warmly.  "And 
no  one  who  has  not  lived  with   her  and  known 


fA  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

her  intimately  can  tell  how  charming  and  good 
she  is.     She  is  like  a  sunbeam  in   the  house." 

"No  one  who  was  not  good  could  be  so  ab- 
solutely happy  as  she  seems  to  be.  Heaven's 
last  gift,  I  think,  is  a  mind  so  pure  and  a  spirit 
so  high  that  it  is  unable  even  to  see  what  is 
impure  and  evil  in  the  world  around  us.  For 
as  long  as  we  can  see  it,  how  can  we  be  truly 
happy?" 

"She  has  a  deeper  side  also.  She  does  not 
turn  it  to  the  world,  and  it  is  not  natural  that 
she  should,  for  she  is  very  young.  But  she 
thinks,  and  has  aspirations  of  her  own. " 

"You  cannot  admire  her  more  than  I  do. 
Indeed,  Miss  Walker,  I  only  ask  to  be  brought 
into  nearer  relationship  with  her,  and  to  feel 
that  there  is   a   permanent    bond   between  us." 

It  had  come  at  last.  For  a  moment  her  heart 
was  numbed  within  her,  and  then  a  flood  of 
sisterly  love  carried  all  before  it.  Down  with 
that  dark  thought  which  would  still  try  to  raise 
its  unhallowed  head!  She  turned  to  Harold 
with  sparkling  eyes  and  words  of  pleasure  upon 
her  lips. 

"I  should  wish  to  be  near  and  dear  to  both 
of  you,"  said  he,  as  he  took  her  hand.  "I 
should  wish  Ida  to  be  my  sister,  and  you  my 
wife. " 

She  said  nothing.  She  only  stood  looking 
at  him  with  parted  lips  and  great,  dark,  ques- 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  65 

tioning  eyes.  The  lawn  had  vanished  away, 
the  sloping  gardens,  the  brick  villas,  the  dark- 
ening sky  with  half  a  pale  moon  beginning  to 
show  over  the  chimney- tops.  All  was  gone, 
and  she  was  only  conscious  of  a  dark,  earnest, 
pleading  face,  and  of  a  voice,  far  away,  dis- 
connected from  herself,  the  voice  of  a  man  tell- 
ing a  woman  how  he  loved  her.  He  was  un- 
happy, said  the  voice,  his  life  was  a  void;  there 
was  but  one  thing  that  could  save  him;  he  had 
come  to  the  parting  of  the  ways,  here  lay  hap- 
piness and  honor,  and  all  that  was  high  and 
noble;  there  lay  the  soul-killing  round,  the 
lonely  life,  the  base  pursuit  of  money,  the 
sordid,  selfish  aims.  He  needed  but  the  hand 
of  the  woman  that  he  loved  to  lead  him  into 
the  better  path.  And  how  he  loved  her  his 
life  would  show.  He  loved  her  for  her  sweet- 
ness, for  her  womanliness,  for  her  strength. 
He  had  need  of  her.  Would  she  not  come  to 
him?  And  then  of  a  sudden  as  she  listened  it 
came  home  to  her  that  the  man  was  Harold 
Denver,  and  that  she  was  the  woman,  and  that 
all  God's  work  was  very  beautiful — the  green 
sward  beneath  her  feet,  the  irustling  leaves,  the 
long  orange  slashes  in  the  western  sky.  She 
spoke;  she  scarce  knew  what  the  broken  words 
were,  but  she  saw  the  light  of  joy  shine  out  on 
his  face,  and  her  hand  was  still  in  his  as  they 
wandered    amid    the   twilight.     They    said   no 


66  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

more  now,  but  only  wandered  and  felt  each 
other's  presence.  All  was  fresh  around  them, 
familiar  and  yet  new,  tinged  with  the  beauty 
of  their  new-found  happiness. 

"Did  you  not  know  it  before?"  he  asked. 

"I  did  not  dare  to  think  it." 

"What  a  mask  of  ice  I  must  wear!  How 
could  a  man  feel  as  I  have  done  without  show- 
ing it?     Your  sister  at  least  knew." 

"Ida!" 

"It  was  last  night.  She  began  to  praise  you, 
I  said  what  I  felt,  and  then  in  an  instant  it 
was  all  out. " 

"But  what  could  you — what  couid  you  see  in 
me?  Oh,  I  do  pray  that  you  may  not  repent 
it!"  The  gentle  heart  was  ruffled  amid  its  joy 
by  the  thought  of  its  own  unworthiness. 

"Repent  it!  I  feel  that  I  am  a  saved  man. 
You  do  not  know  how  degrading  this  city  life 
is,  how  debasing,  and  yet  how  absorbing. 
Money  for  ever  clinks  in  your  ear.  You  can 
think  of  nothing  else.  From  the  bottom  of 
my  heart  I  hate  it,  and  yet  how  can  I  draw 
back  without  bringing  grief  to  my  dear  old 
father?  There  was  but  one  way  in  which  I 
could  defy  the  taint,  and  that  was  by  having  a 
home  influence  so  pure  and  so  high  that  it 
may  brace  me  up  against  all  that  draws  me 
down.  I  have  felt  that  influence  already.  I 
know  that  when  I  am    talking   to  you    I  am    a 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  67 

r 

better  man.      It  is  you   who    must    go   with  me 
through  life,  or  I    must  walk   for    ever  alone. " 

"Oh,  Harold,  I  am  so  happy!"  Still  they 
wandered  amid  the  darkening  shadows,  while 
one  by  one  the  stars  peeped  out  in  the  blue- 
black  sky  above  them.  At  last  a  chill  night 
wind  blew  up  from  the  east,  and  brought  them 
back  to  the  realities  of  life. 

"You  must  go  in.      You  will  be  cold. " 

"My  father  will  wonder  where  I  am.  Shall  I 
say  anything  to  him?" 

"If  you  like,  my  darling.  Or  I  will  in  the 
morning.  I  must  tell  my  mother  to-night.  I 
know  how  delighted  she  will  be." 

"I  do  hope  so." 

"Let  me  take  you  up  the    grr'Ien    path,      i 
i  is  so  dark.      Your  lamp  is   noc  lit  yet.      There 
is  the  window.   Till  to-morrow,  then,  dearest.  '* 

"Till  to-morrow,  Harold. " 

"My  own  darling!"  He  stooped,  and  their 
lips  met  for  the  first  time.  Then,  as  she  pushed 
open  the  folding  windows  she  heard  his  quick, 
firm  step  as  it  passed  down  the  graveled  path. 
A  lamp  was  lit  as  she  entered  the  room,  and 
there  was  Ida,  dancing  about  like  a  mischievous 
little  fairy  in  front  of  her. 

"And  have  you  anything  to  tell  me?"  she 
asked,  with  a  solemn  face.  Then,  suddenly 
throwing  her  arms  round  her  sister's  neck. 
"Oh,  you  dear, dear  old  Clara!  I  am  so  pleased. 
I  am  so  pleased." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"VENIT  TANDEM   FELICITAS.  " 

It  was  just  three  di^j^  ^._r  the  Doctor  and 
the  Admiral  had  congratulated  each  other  upon 
the  closer  tie  which  was  to  unite  their  two 
families,  and  to  turn  their  friendship  into  some- 
thing even  dearer  and  more  intimate,  that  Miss 
Ida  Walker  received  a  letter  which  caused  her 
some  surprise  and  considerable  amusement.  It 
was  dated  from  next  door,  and  was  handed  in 
by  the  red-headed  page  after  breakfast. 

"Dear  Miss  Ida,"  began  this  curious  docu- 
ment, and  then  relapsed  suddenly  into  the 
third  person.  "Mr.  Charles  Westmacott  hopes 
that  he  may  have  the  extreme  pleasure  cf  a  ride 
with  Miss  Ida  Walker  upon  his  tandem  tri- 
cycle. Mr.  Charles  Westmacott  will  bring  it 
round  in  half  an  hour.  You  in  front.  Yours 
very  truly,  Charles  Westmacott."  The  whole 
was  written  in  a  large,  loose-jointed,  and 
school-boyish  hand,  very  thin  on  the  up  strokes 
and  thick  on  the  down,  as  though  care  and 
pains  had  gone  to  the  fashioning   of  it. 

Strange  as  was  the  form,  the  meaning  was 
clear  enough;  so  Ida  hastened  to  her  room, and 
had  hardly  slipped  on  her  light  grey  cycling 
(38 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  69 

dress  when  she  saw  the  tandem  with  its  large 
occupant  at  the  door.  He  handed  her  up  to 
her  saddle  with  a  more  solemn  and  thoughtful 
face  than  was  usual  with  him,  and  a  few  mo- 
ments later  they  were  flying  along  the  beautiful, 
smooth  suburban  roads  in  the  direction  of  Forest 
Hill.  The  great  limbs  of  the  athlete  made  the 
heavy  machine  spring  and  quiver  with  every 
stroke;  while  the  mignon  grey  figure  with  the 
laughing  face,  and  the  golden  curls  blowing 
from  under  the  little  pink-banded  straw  hat, 
simply  held  firmly  to  her  perch,  and  let  the 
treadles  whirl  round  beneath  her  feet.  Mile 
after  mile  they  flew,  the  wind  beating  in  her 
face,  the  trees  dancing  past  in  two  long  ranks 
on  either  side,  until  they  had  passed  round 
Croydon  and  were  approaching  Norwood  once 
more  from  the  further  side. 

"Aren't  you  tired?"  she  asked,  glancing  over 
her  shoulder  and  turning  towards  him  a  little 
pink  ear,  a  fluffy  golden  curl,  and  one  blue  eye 
twinkling  from  the  very  corner  of  its  lid. 

"Not  a  bit.     I  am  just  getting  my   swing." 

"Isn't  it  wonderful  to  be  strong?  You  always 
remind  me  of  a  steamengine. " 

"Why  a  steamengine?" 

"Well,  because  it  is  so  powerful,  and  relia- 
ble, and  unreasoning.  Well,  I  didn't  mean 
that  last,  you  know,  but — but — you  know  what 
I  mean.  What  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Why?" 


70  BEYOND  THE   CITY 

"Because  you  have  something  on  your  mind. 
You  have  not  laughed  once." 

He  broke  into  a  gruesome  laugh.  "I  am 
quite  jolly,"  said  he. 

"Oh,  no,  you  are  not.  And  why  did  you 
write  me  such  a  dreadfully  stiff  letter?" 

"There  now,"  he  cried,  "I  was  sure  it  was 
stiff.     I  said  it  was  absurdly  stiff. " 

"Then  why  write  it?" 

"It  wasn't  my  own  composition." 

"Whose  then?     Your  aunt's?" 

"Oh,  no.  It  was  a  person  of  the  name  oi 
Slattery. " 

"Goodness!     Who  is  he?" 

"I  knew  it  would  come  out,  I  felt  that  it 
would.     You've  heard  of  Slattery  the  author?" 

"Never." 

"He  is  wonderful  at  expressing  himself.  He 
wrote  a  book  called  'The  Secret  Solved;  or, 
Letter-writing  Made  Easy.'  It  gives  you  mod- 
els of  all  sorts  of  letters." 

Ida  burst  out  laughing.  "So  you  actually 
copied  one." 

"It  was  to  invite  a  young  lady  to  a  picnic, 
but  I  set  to  work  and  soon  got  it  changed  so 
that  it  would  do  very  well.  Slattery  seems  never 
to  have  asked  any  one  to  ride  a  tandem.  But 
when  I  had  written  it,  it  seemed  so  dreadfully 
stiff  that  I  had  to  put  a  little  beginning  and 
end  of  my  own,  which  seemed  to  brighten  it 
up  a  good  deal." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  71 

"I  thought  there  was  something  funny  about 
the  beginning  and  end." 

"Did  you?  Fancy  your  noticing  the  differ- 
ence in  style.^  How  quick  you  are!  lam  very 
slow  at  things  like  that.  I  ought  to  have  been 
a  woodman,  or  game-keeper,  or  something.  I 
was  made  on  those  lines.  But  I  have  found 
something  now." 

"What  is  that,  then?" 

"Ranching.  I  have  a  chum  in  Texas,  and 
he  says  it  is  a  rare  life.  I  am  to  buy  a  share 
in  his  business.  It  is  all  in  the  open  air — 
shooting,  and  riding,  and  sport.  Would  it — 
would  it  inconvenience  you  much,  Ida,  to  come 
out  there  with  me?" 

Ida  nearly  fell  off  her  perch  in  her  amaze- 
ment. The  only  words  of  which  she  could  think 
were  "My  goodness  me!"  so  she  said  them. 

"If  it  would  not  upset  your  plans,  or  change 
your  arrangements  in  any  way. "  He  had  slowed 
down  and  let  go  of  the  steering  handle,  so  that 
the  great  machine  crawled  aimlessly  about  from 
one  side  of  the  road  to  the  other.  "I  know 
very  well  that  I  am  not  clever  or  anything  of 
that  sort,  but  still  I  would  do  all  I  can  to  make 
you  very  happy.  Don't  you  think  that  in  time 
you  might  come  to  like  me  a  little  bit?" 

Ida  gave  a  cry  of  fright.  "I  won't  like  you 
if  you  run  me  against  a  brick  wall,"  she  said, 
as  the  machine  rasped  up  against  the  curb. 
''Do  attend  to  the  steering." 


72  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Yes,  I  will.  But  tell  me,  Ida,  whether  you 
will  come  with  me." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  It's  too  absurd!  How 
can  we  talk  about  such  things  when  I  cannot 
see  you?  You  speak  to  the  nape  of  my  neck, 
and  then  I  have  to  twist  my  head  round  to  an- 
swer. " 

"I  know.  That  was  why  I  put  'You  in  front' 
upon  my  letter.  I  thought  that  it  v/ould  make 
it  easier.  But  if  you  would  prefer  it  I  will 
stop  the  machine,  and  then  you  can  sit  round 
and  talk  about  it." 

"Good  gracious!"  cried  Ida.  "Fancy  our 
sitting  face  to  face  on  a  motionless  tricycle  in 
the  middle  of  the  road,  and  all  the  people 
looking  out  of  their  windows  at  us!" 

"It  would  look  rather  funny,  wouldn't  it? 
Well,  then,  suppose  that  we  both  get  off  and 
push  the  tandem  along  in  front  of  us?" 

"Oh,  no,  this  is  better  than  that." 

"Or  I  could  carry  the  thing." 

Ida  burst  out  laughing.  "That  would  be  more 
absurd  still." 

"Then  we  will  go  quietly,  and  I  will  lookout 
for  the  steering.  I  won't  talk  about  it  at  all  if 
you  would  rather  not.  But  I  really  do  love  you 
very  much,  and  you  would  make  me  happy  if 
you  came  to  Texas  with  me,  and  1  think  that 
perhaps  after  a  time  I  could  make  you  happy 
too. " 

"But  your  aunt?" 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  73 

"Oh,  she  would  like  it  very  much.  I  can 
understand  that  your  father  might  not  like  to 
lose  you.  Vm  sure  I  wouldn't  either,  if  I  were 
he.  But  after  all,  America  is  not  very  far  off 
nowadays,  and  is  not  so  very  wild.  We  would 
take  a  grand  piano,  and — and — a  copy  of 
Browning.  And  Denver  and  his  wife  would 
come  over  to  see  us.  We  should  be  quite  a 
family  party.     It  would  be  jolly." 

Ida  sat  listening  to  the  stumbling  words  and 
awkward  phrases  which  were  whispered  from 
the  back  of  her,  but  there  was  something  in 
Charles  Westmacott's  clumsiness  of  speech 
which  was  more  moving  than  the  words  of  the 
most  eloquent  of  pleaders.  He  paused,  he 
stammered,  he  caught  his  breath  between  the 
Words,  and  he  blurted  out  in  little  blunt  phrases 
all  the  hopes  of  his  heart.  If  love  had  not  come 
to  her  yet,  there  was  at  least  pity  and  sympa- 
thy, which  are  nearly  akin  to  it.  Wonder  there 
was  also  that  one  so  weak  and  frail  as  she 
should  shake  this  strong  man  so,  should  have 
the  whole  course  of  his  life  waiting  for  her 
decision.  Her  left  hand  was  on  the  cushion  at 
her  side.  He  leaned  forward  and  took  it  gently 
in  his  own.  She  did  not  try  to  draw  it  back 
from  him. 

"May  I  have  it,"  said  he,  "for  life?" 

"Oh,  do  attend  to  your  steering,"  said  she, 
smiling  round  at  him;  "and  don't  say  any  more 
about  this  to-day.     Please  don't!" 


74  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

'   "  When  shall  I  know,  then?" 

"Oh,  to-night,  to-morrow,  I  don't  know.     I 

must  ask  Clara.     Talk  about  something  else." 

And  they  did  talk  about  something  else;  but 

her  left  hand  was  still  enclosed   in  his,  and  h 

knew,  without  asking  again,   that  all  was  well. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SHADOWS  BEFORE. 

Mrs.  Westmacott's  great  meeting  for  the  en- 
franchisement of  woman  had  passed  over,  and 
it  had  been  a  triumphant  success.  All  the 
maids  and  matrons  of  the  southern  suburbs  had 
rallied  at  her  summons,  there  was  an  influential 
platform  with  Dr.  Balthazar  Walker  in  the 
chair,  and  Admiral  Hay  Denver  among  his 
more  prominent  supporters.  One  benighted 
male  had  come  in  from  the  outside  darkness 
and  had  jeered  from  the  further  end  of  the  hall, 
but  he  had  been  called  to  order  by  the  chair, 
petrified  by  indignant  glances  from  the  unen- 
franchised around  him,  and  finally  escorted  to 
the  door  by  Charles  Westmacott.  Fiery  reso- 
lutions were  passed,  to  be  forwarded  to  a  large 
number  of  leading  statesmen,  and  the  meeting 
broke  up    with    the    conviction  that  a  shrewd 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  75 

blow  had  been  struck  for  the  cause  of  woman. 
.  But  there  was  one  woman  at  least  to  whom 
the  meeting  and  all  that  was  connected  with  it 
had  brought  anything  but  pleasure.  Clara 
Walker  watched  with  a  heavy  heart  the  friend- 
ship and  close  intimacy  which  had  sprung  up 
between  her  father  and  the  widow.  From  week 
to  week  it  had  increased  until  no  day  ever 
passed  without  their  being  together.  The  com- 
ing meeting  had  been  the  excuse  for  these  con- 
tinual interviews,  but  now  the  meeting  was 
over,  and  still  the  Doctor  would  refer  every 
point  which  rose  to  the  judgment  of  his  neighbor. 
He  would  talk,  too,  to  his  two  daughters  of 
her  strength  of  character,  her  decisive  mind, 
and  of  the  necessity  of  their  cultivating  her  ac- 
quaintance and  following  her  example,  until  at 
last  it  had  become  his  most  common  topic  of 
conversation. 

All  this  might  have  passed  as  merely  the  nat- 
ural pleasure  which  an  elderly  man  might  take 
in  the  society  of  an  intelligent  and  handsome 
woman,  but  there  were  other  points  which 
seemed  to  Clara  to  give  it  a  deeper  meaning. 
She  could  not  forget  that  when  Charles  West- 
macott  had  spoken  to  her  one  night  he  had 
alluded  to  the  possibility  of  his  aunt  marrying 
again.  He  must  have  known  or  noticed  some- 
thing before  he  would  speak  upon  such  a  sub- 
ject.    And   then   again    Mrs.    Westmacott   had 


76  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

herself  said  that  she  hoped  to  change  her  style 
of  living  shortly  and  take  over  completely  new 
duties.  What  could  that  mean  except  that  she 
expected  to  marry?  And  whom?  She  seemed 
to  see  few  friends  outside  their  own  little  circle. 
She  must  have  alluded  to  her  father.  It  was  a 
hateful  thought,  and  yet  it  must  be  faced. 

One  evening  the  Doctor  had  been  rather  late 
at  his  neighbor's.  He  used  to  go  into  the  Ad- 
miral's after  dinner,  but  now  he  turned  more 
frequently  in  the  other  direction.  When  he 
returned  Clara  was  sitting  alone  in  the  draw- 
ing-room reading  a  magazine.  She  sprang  up 
as  he  entered,  pushed  forward  his  chair,  and 
ran  to  fetch  his  slippers. 

"You  are  looking  a  little  pale,  dear,"  he  re- 
marked. 

"Oh,  no,  papa,  I  am  very  well." 

"All  well  with  Harold?" 

"Yes.  His  partner,  Mr.  Pearson,  is  still 
away,  and  he  is  doing  all  the  work." 

"Well  done.  He  is  sure  to  succeed.  Where 
is  Ida?" 

"In  her  room,  I  think." 

"She  was  with  Charles  Westmacott  on  the 
lawn  not  very  long  ago.  He  seems  very  fond 
of  her.  He  is  not  very  bright,  but  I  think  he 
will  make  her  a  good  husband." 

"I  am  sure  of  it,  papa.  He  is  very  manly 
and  reliable." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  77 

"Yes,  I  should  think  that  he  is  not  the  sort 
of  man  who  goes  wrong.  There  is  nothing 
hidden  about  him.  As  to  his  brightness,  it  really 
does  not  matter,  for  his  aunt,  Mrs.  Westmacott, 
is  very  rich,  much  richer  than  you  would  think 
from  her  style  of  living,  and  she  has  made  him 
a  handsome  provision." 

"I  am  glad  of  that." 

"It  is  between  ourselves.  I  am  her  trustee, 
and  so  I  know  something  of  her  arrangements. 
And  when  are  you  going  to  marry,  Clara?" 

"Oh,  papa,  not  for  some  time  yet.  We  have 
not  thought  of  a  date." 

"Well,  really,  I  don't  know  that  there  is  any 
reason  for  delay.  He  has  a  competence  and  it 
increases  yearly.  As  long  as  you  are  quite  cer- 
tain that  your  mind  is  made  up " 

"Oh,  papa!" 

"Well,  then,  I  really  do  not  know  why  there 
should  be  any  delay.  And  Ida,  too,  must  be 
married  within  the  next  few  months.  Now, 
what  I  want  to  know  is  what  I  am  to  do  when 
my  two  little  companions  run  away  from  me." 
He  spoke  lightly,  but  his  eyes  were  grave  as 
he  looked  questioningly  at  his  daughter. 

"Dear  papa,  you  shall  not  be  alone.  It  will 
be  years  before  Harold  and  I  think  of  marrying, 
and  when  we  do  you  must  come  and  live  with 
us." 

"No,  no,  dear.      I  know  that  you  mean  what 


78  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

you  say,  but  I  have  seen  something  of  the 
world,  and  I  know  that  such  arrangements  never 
answer.  There  cannot  be  two  masters  in  a 
house,  and  yet  at  my  age  my  freedom  is  very 
necessary  to  me." 

"But  you  would  be  completely  free." 

"No,  dear,  you  cannot  be  that  if  you  are  a 
guest  in  another  man's  house.  Can  you  sug- 
gest no  other  alternative?" 

"That  we  remain  with  you." 

"No,  no.  That  is  out  of  the  question.  Mrs. 
Westmacott  herself  says  that  a  woman's  first 
duty  is  to  marry.  Marriage,  however,  should 
be  an  equal  partnership,  as  she  points  out.  I 
should  wish  you  both  to  marry,  but  still  I  should 
like  a  suggestion  from  you,  Clara,  as  to  what 
/  should  do. " 

"But  there  is  no  hurry,  papa.  Let  us  v/ait. 
I  do  not  intend  to  marry  yet. " 

Doctor  Walker  looked  disappointed.  "Well, 
Clara,  if  you  can  suggest  nothing,  I  suppose 
that  I  must  take  the  initiative  myself,"  said 
he. 

"Then  what  do  you  propose,  papa?"  She 
braced  herself  as  one  who  sees  the  blow  which 
is  about  to  fall. 

He  looked  at  her  and  hesitated.  "How  like 
your  poor  dear  mother  you  are,  Clara!"  he 
cried.  "As  I  looked  at  you  then  it  was  as  if 
she    had    come    back    from    the    grave."     He 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  79 

stooped  towards  her  and  kissed  her.  "There, 
run  away  to  your  sister,  my  dear,  and  do  not 
trouble  yourself  about  me.  Nothing  is  settled 
yet,  but  yQu  will  find  that  all  will  come  right.  ' 
Clara  went  upstairs  sad  at  heart,  for  she  was 
sure  now  that  what  she  had  feared  was  indeea 
about  to  come  to  pass,  and  that  her  father  was 
going  to  take  Mrs.  Westmacott  to  be  his  wife. 
In  her  pure  and  earnest  mind  her  mother's 
memory  was  enshrined  as  that  of  a  saint,  and 
the  thought  that  any  one  should  take  her  place 
seemed  a  terrible  desecration.  Even  worse, 
however,  did  this  marriage  appear  when  looked 
at  from  the  point  of  view  of  her  father's  future. 
The  widow  might  fascinate  him  by  her  knowl- 
edge of  the  world,  her  dash,  her  strength,  her 
unconventionality — all  these  qualities  Clara  was 
willing  to  allow  her — but  she  was  convinced 
that  she  would  be  unendurable  as  a  life  com- 
panion. She  had  come  to  an  age  when  habits 
are  not  lightly  to  be  changed,  nor  was  she  a 
woman  who  was  at  all  likely  to  attempt  to 
change  them.  How  would  a  sensitive  man  like 
her  father  stand  the  constant  strain  of  such  a 
wife,  a  woman  who  was  all  decision,  with  no 
softness,  and  nothing  soothing  in  her  nature? 
It  passed  as  a  mere  eccentricity  when  they 
heard  of  her  stout  drinking,  her  cigarette  smok- 
ing, her  occasional  whiffs  at  a  long  clay  pipe, 
her  horsewhipping    of  a  drunken   servant,  and 


80  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

her  companionship  with  the  snake  Eliza,  whom 
she  was  in  the  habit  of  bearing  about  in  her 
pocket.  All  this  would  become  unendurable  to 
her  father  when  his  first  infatuation  was  past. 
For  his  own  sake,  then,  as  well  as  for  her 
mother's  memory,  this  match  must  be  prevented. 
And  yet  how  powerless  she  was  to  prevent  it! 
What  could  she  do?  Could  Harold  aid  her? 
Perhaps.  Or  Ida?  At  least  she  would  tell  her 
sister  and  see  what  she  could  suggest. 

Ida  was  in  her  boudoir,  a  tiny  little  tapestried 
room,  as  neat  and  dainty  as  herself,  with  low 
walls  hung  with  Imari  plaques  and  with  pretty 
little  Swiss  brackets  bearing  blue  Kaga  ware, 
or  the  pure  white  Coalport  china.  In  a  low 
chair  beneath  a  red  shaded  standing  lamp  sat 
Ida,  in  a  diaphanous  evening  dress  of  moussehne 
desoie^  the  ruddy  light  tinging  her  sweet  child- 
like face,  and  glowing  on  her  golden  curls. 
She  sprang  up  as  her  sister  entered,  and  threw 
her  arms  around  her. 

"Dear  old  Clara!  Come  and  sit  down  here 
beside  me.  I  have  not  had  a  chat  for  days. 
But,  oh,  what  a  troubled  face!  What  is  it 
then?"  She  put  up  her  forefinger  and  smoothed 
her  sister's  brow  with  it. 

Clara  pulled  up  a  stool,  and  sitting  down 
beside  her  sister,  passed  her  arm  round  her 
waist.  "I  am  so  sorry  to  trouble  you,  dear 
Ida,"  she  said.  *'But  I  do  not  know  what  to 
do." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  81 

"There's  nothing  the  matter  with  Harold?" 

"Oh,  no,  Ida." 

**Nor  with  my  Charles?" 

*'No,  no./' 

Ida  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  "You  quite  fright* 
ened  me,  dear,"  said  she.  "You  can't  think 
hov7  solemn  you  look.      What  is  it,  then?" 

"I  believe  that  papa  intends  to  ask  Mrs. 
"Westmacott  to  marry  him." 

Ida  burst  out  laughing.  "What  can  have 
put  such  a  notion   into  your  head,     Clara?" 

"It  is  only  too  true,  Ida.  I  suspected  it  be- 
fore, and  he  himself  almost  told  me  as  much 
v/ith  his  own  lips  to-night.  I  don't  think  that 
it  is  a  laughing   matter." 

"Really,  I  could  not  help  it.  If  you  had  told 
me  that  those  two  dear  old  ladies  opposite,  the 
Misses  Williams,  were  both  engaged, you  would 
not  have  surprised  me  more.  It  is  really  too 
funny. " 

"Funny,  Ida!  Think  of  any  one  taking  the 
place  of  dear  mother." 

But  her  sister  was  of  a  more  practical  and 
less  sentimental  nature.  "I  am  sure,"  said  she, 
"that  dear  mother  would  like  papa  to  do  what- 
ever would  make  him  most  happy.  We  shall 
both  be  away,  and  why  should  papa  not  please 
himself?" 

"But  think  how  unhappy  he  will  be.  You 
know  how  quiet  he  is   in    his    ways,  and    how 


82  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

even  a  little  thing  will  upset  him.  How  could 
he  live  with  a  wife  who  would  make  his  whole 
life  a  series  of  surprises?  Fancy  what  a  whirl- 
wind she  must  be  in  a  house.  A  man  at  his 
age  cannot  change  his  ways.  I  am  sure  he 
would  be  miserable." 

Ida's  face  grew  graver,  and  she  pondered  over 
the  matter  for  a  few  minutes.  "I  really  think 
that  you  are  right  as  usual,"  said  she  at  last. 
"I  admire  Charlie's  aunt  very  much,  you 
know,  and  I  think  that  she  is  a  very  useful  and 
good  person,  but  I  don't  think  she  would  do  as 
a  wife  for  poor  quiet  papa." 

"But  he  will  certainly  ask  her,  and  I  really 
think  that  she  intends  to  accept  him.  Then  it 
would  be  too  late  to  interfere.  We  have  only 
a  few  days  at  the  most.  And  what  can  we  do  ? 
How  can  we  hope  to  make  him  change  his 
mind?" 

Again  Ida  pondered.  "He  has  never  tried 
what  it  is  to  live  with  a  strong-minded  woman, " 
said  she.  "If  we  could  only  get  him  to  realize 
it  in  time.  Oh,  Clara,  I  have  it;  I  have  it- 
Such  a  lovely  plan!"  She  leaned  back  in  her 
chair  and  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter  so  natural 
and  so  hearty  that  Clara  had  to  forget  her 
troubles  and  to  join  in  it. 

"Oh,  it  is  beautiful!"  she  gasped  at  last. 
"Poor  papa!  What  a  time  he  will  have!  But 
it's  all  for  his  own  good,  as  he  used  to  say  when 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  83 

we  had  to  be  punished  when  we  were  little. 
Oh,  Clara,  I  do  hope  your  heart  won't  fail 
you.  '* 

"I  would  .do  anything  to  save  him,  dear." 

"That's  it.  You  must  steel  yourself  by  that 
thought. " 

"But  what  is  your  plan?" 

"Oh,  I  am  so  proud  of  it.  We  will  tire  him 
for  ever  of  the  widow,  and  of  all  emancipated 
women.  Let  me  see,  what  are  Mrs.  Westma- 
cott's  main  ideas?  You  have  listened  to  her 
more  than  I.  Women  should  attend  less  to 
household  duties.     That    is    one,  is    it    not?" 

"Yes,  if  they  feel  they  have  capabilities  for 
higher  things.  Then  she  thinks  that  every 
woman  who  has  leisure  should  take  up  the 
study  of  some  branch  of  science,  and  that,  as 
far  as  possible,  every  woman  should  qualify 
herself  for  some  trade  or  profession,  choosing 
for  preference  those  which  have  been  hitherto 
monopolized  by  men.  To  enter  the  others  would 
only  be  to  intensify  the  present    competition. " 

"Quite  so.  That  is  glorious!"  Her  blue 
eyes  were  dancing  with  mischief,  and  she 
clapped  her  hands  in  her  delight  "What  else? 
She  thinks  that  whatever  a  man  can  do  a  wom- 
an should  be  allowed  to  do  also — does  she 
not?" 

"She  says  so." 

"And  about    dress?     The    short    skirt,    and 


84  BEYOUD  THE  CITY 

the  divided  skirt    are   what    she    believes  in?** 

•'Yes." 

"We  must  get  in  some  cloth." 

**Why?" 

"We  must  make  ourselves  a  dress  each.  A 
brand-new,  enfranchised,  emancipated  dress, 
dear.  Don't  you  see  my  plan?  We  shall  act 
up  to  all  Mrs.  Westmacott's  views  in  every 
respect,  and  improve  them  when  we  can.  Then 
papa  will  know  what  it  is  to  live  with  a  woman 
who  claims  all  her  rights.  Oh,  Clara,  it  will 
be  splendid." 

Her  milder  sister  sat  speechless  before  so 
daring  a  scheme.  "But  it  would  be  wrong, 
Ida!"  she  cried  at  last. 

"Not  a  bit.     It  is  to  save  him." 

"I  should  not  dare." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  would.  Harold  will  help.  Be- 
sides, what  other  plan  have  you?" 

"I  have  none." 

"Then  you  must  take  mine. " 

"Yes.  Perhaps  you  are  right.  Well,  we  do 
it  for  a  good  motive." 

"You  will  do  it?" 

"I  do  not  see  any  other  wa3^" 

"You  dear  good  Clara!  Now  I  will  show  yoa 
what  you  are  to  do.     We   must  not  begin  to 
suddenly.     It  might  excite  suspicion." 

"What  would  you  do,  then?" 

"To-morrow  we  must  go  to  Mrs.Westmacott, 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  85 

and  sit  at  her   feet   and    learn   all   her  views." 

"What  hypocrites  we  shall  feel!" 

"We  shall  be  her  newest  and  most  enthusi- 
astic converts.  Oh,  it  will  be  such  fun,  Clara! 
Then  we  shall  make  our  plans  and  send  fol 
what  we  want,  and  begin  our  new  life." 

"I  do  hope  that  we  shall  not  have  to  keep  it 
up  long.      It  seems  so  cruel  to  dear  papa." 

"Cruel!     To  save  him!" 

"I  wish  I  was  sure  that  we  were  doing  right. 
And  yet  what  else  can  we  do?  Well,  then,  Ida, 
the  die  is  cast,  and  we  will  call  upon  Mrs, 
Westmacott  to-morrow. " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  FAMILY  PLOT. 

Little  did  poor  Doctor  Walker  imagine  as 
he  sat  at  his  breakfast-table  next  morning  that 
the  two  sweet  girls  who  sat  on  either  side  of 
him  were  deep  in  a  conspiracy,  and  that  he, 
munching  innocently  at  his  muffins,  was  the 
victim  against  whom  their  wiles  were  planned. 
Patiently  they  waited  until  at  last  their  open- 
ing came. 

"It  is  a  beautiful  day,"  he  remarked.  "It  will 
do  for  Mrs.  Westmacott.  She  was  thinking  of 
having  a  spin  upon  the  tricycle.'* 


86  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Then  we  must  call  early.  We  both  intended 
to  see  her  after  breakfast." 

"Oh,  indeed!"     The  Doctor   looked  pleased. 

"You  know,  pa,"  said  Ida,  "it  seems  to  us 
that  we  really  have  a  very  great  advantage  in 
having  Mrs.  Westmacott  living  so  near." 

"Why  so,  dear?" 

"Well,  because  she  is  so  advanced,  you  know. 
If  we  only  study  her  ways  we  may  advance 
ourselves  also." 

"I  think  I  have  heard  you  say,  papa,"  Clara 
remarked,  "that  she  is  the  type  of  the  woman 
of  the  future." 

"I  am  very  pleased  to  hear  you  speak  so  sen- 
sibly, my  dears.      I  certainly  think    that  she 
a  woman  whom  you  may  very  well  take  as  your 
model.     The    more   intimate  you   are  with  her 
the  better  pleased  I  shall  be." 

"Then  that  is  settled,"  said  Clara  demurely, 
and  the  talk  drifted  to  other  matters. 

All  the  morning  the  two  girls  sat  extracting 
from  Mrs.  Westmacott  her  most  extreme  view 
as  to  the  duty  of  the  one  sex  and  the  tyranny 
of  the  other.  Absolute  equality,  even  in  de- 
tails, was  her  ideal.  Enough  of  the  parrot  cry 
of  unwomanly  and  unmaidenly.  It  had  been 
invented  by  man  to  scare  woman  away  when 
she  poached  too  nearl}'^  upon  his  precious  pre- 
serves. Every  woman  should  be  independent. 
Every    woman    should    learn  a  trade.      It    v/as 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  87 

their  duty  to  push  in  where  they  were  least 
welcome.  Then  they  were  martyrs  to  the  cause, 
and  pioneers  to  their  weaker  sisters.  Why 
should  the  wash-tub,  the  needle,  and  the  house- 
keeper's book  be  eternally  theirs?  Might  they 
not  reach  higher,  to  the  consulting-room,  to 
the  bench,  and  even  to  the  pulpit?  Mrs.  West- 
macott  sacrificed  her  tricycle  ride  in  her  eager- 
ness over  her  pet  subject,  and  her  two  fair  dis- 
xiples  drank  in  every  word,  and  noted  every 
suggestion  for  future  use.  That  afternoon  they 
went  shopping  in  London,  and  before  evening 
strange  packages  began  to  be  handed  in  at  the 
Doctor's  door.  The  plot  was  ripe  for  execution, 
and  one  of  the  conspirators  was  merry  and  ju- 
bilant, while  the  other  was  very  nervous  and 
troubled. 

When  the  Doctor  came  down  to  the  dining- 
room  next  morning,  he  was  surprised  to  find 
that  his  daughters  had  already  been  up  some 
time.  Ida  was  installed  at  one  end  of  the  table 
with  a  spirit-lamp,  a  curved  glass  flask,  and 
several  bottles  in  front  of  her.  The  contents 
of  the  flask  were  boiling  furiously,  while  a  vil« 
lainous  sihell  filled  the  room.  Clara  lounged  in 
an  arm-chair  with  her  feet  upon  a  second  one, 
a  blue-covered  book  in  her  hand,  and  a  huge 
map  of  the  British  Islands  spread  across  her 
lap.  "Hullo!"  cried  the  Doctor,  blinking  and 
snifling,  "whereas  the  breakfast?" 


8S  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Oh,  didn't  you  order  it?"  asked  Ida, 

"I!  No;  why  should  I?"  He  rang  the  bell. 
"Why  have  you  not  laid   the  breakfast,  Jane?" 

"If  you  please,  sir,  Miss  Ida  was  a  workin'  at 
the  table." 

"Oh,  of  course,  Jane,"  said  the  young  lady 
calmly.  "I  am  so  sorry.  I  shall  be  ready  to 
move  in  a  few  minutes." 

"But  what  on  earth  are  you  doing,  Ida?" 
asked  the  Doctor.  "The  smell  is  most  offen- 
sive. And,  good  gracious,  look  at  the  mess 
which  you  have  made  upon  the  cloth!  Wh}^ 
you  have  burned  a  hole  right  through." 

"Oh,  that  is  the  acid,"  Ida  answered  con- 
tentedly. "Mrs  Westmacott  said  that  it  would 
burn  holes." 

"You  might  have  taken  her  word  for  it  with- 
out trying,"  said  her  father  dryly. 

"But  look  here,  pa!   See  what  the  book  says: 
'The  scientific  mind  takes  nothing   upon  trust 
Prove  all  things!*     I  have  proved  that." 

"You  certainly  have.  Well,  until  breakfast 
is  ready  PU  glance  over  the  Times,  Have  you 
seen  it?" 

"The  Times?  Oh,  dear  me,  this  is  it  which 
I  have  under  my  spirit-lamp.  I  am  afraid  there 
is  some  acid  upon  that  too,  and  it  is  rather 
damp  and  torn.     Here  it  is." 

The  Doctor  took  the  bedraggled  paper  with  a 
rueful  face.      "Everything   seems    to    be  wrong 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  89 

to-day,"  he  remarked.      "What    is   this   sudden 
enthusiasm  about  chemistry,  Ida?" 

"Oh,  I  am  trying  to  live  up  to  Mrs.  West- 
macott's  teaching." 

"Quite  right!  quite  right!"  said  he,  though 
perhaps  with  less  heartiness  than  he  had  shown 
the  day  before.    "Ah,  here  is  breakfast  at  last!" 

But  nothing  was  comfortable  that  morning. 
There  were  eggs  without  egg-spoons,  toast 
which  was  leathery  from  being  kept,  (Jried-up 
rashers,  and  grounds  in  the  coffee.  Above  all, 
there  was  that  dreadful  smell  which  pervaded 
everything  and  gave  a  horrible  twang  to  every 
mouthful. 

"I  don't  wish  to  put  a  damper  upon  your 
studies,  Ida,"  said  the  Doctor,  as  he  pushed 
back  his  chair.  "But  I  do  think  it  would  be 
better  if  you  did  your  chemical  experiments  a 
little  later  in  the  day." 

"But  Mrs.  Westmacott  says  that  women 
should  rise  early,  and  do  their  work  before 
breakfast. " 

"Then  they  should  choose  some  other  room 
besides  the  breakfast-room."  The  Doctor  was 
becoming  just  a  little  ruffled.  A  turn  in  the 
open  air  would  soothe  him, he  thought.  "Where 
are  my  boots?"  he  asked. 

But  they  were  not  in  their  accustomed  corner 
by  his  chair.  Up  and  down  he  searched,  while 
the  three  servants  took  up  the  quest,    stooping 


90  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

and  peeping  under  book-cases  and  drawers. 
Ida  had  returned  to  her  studies,  and  Clara  to 
her  blue-covered  volume,  sitting  absorbed  and 
disinterested  amid  the  bustle  and  the  racket. 
At  last  a  general  buzz  of  congratulation  an- 
nounced that  the  cook  had  discovered  the  boots 
hung  up  among  the  hats  in  the  hall.  The  Doc- 
tor, very  red  and  flustered,  drew  them  on,  and 
stamped  off  to  join  the  Admiral  in  his  morninL 
walk. 

As  the  door  slammed  Ida  burst  into  a  shout 
of  laughter.  "You  see,  Clara,"  she  cried,  "the 
charm  works  already.  He  has  gone  to  number 
one  instead  of  to  number  three.  Oh,  we  shall 
win  a  great  victory.  You've  been  very  good, 
dear;  I  could  see  that  you  were  on  thorns  to 
help  him  when  he  was  looking  for  his    boots.  " 

"Poor  papa!  It  is  so  cruel.  And  yet  what 
are  we  to  do?" 

"Oh,  he  will  enjoy  being  comfortable  all  the 
more  if  we  give  him  a  little  discomfort  now 
What  horrible  work  this  chemistry  is!  Look 
at  my  frock!  It  is  ruined.  And  this  dreadful 
smell!"  She  threw  open  the  window,  and  thrust 
her  little  golden-curled  head  out  of  it.  Charles 
Westmacott  was  hoeing  at  the  other  side  of 
the  garden  fence. 

"Good  morning,  sir,"  said  Ida. 

"Good  morning!"  The  big  man  leaned  upon 
his  hoe  and  looked  up  at  her. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  91 

"Have  you  any  cigarettes,  Charles?'* 

"Yes,  certainly. " 

"Throw  me  up  two." 

"Here  is  my  case.      Can  you  catch!" 

A  seal-skin  case  came  with  a  soft  thud  on  to 
the  floor.      Ida  opened  it.      It  was  full. 

"What  are  these?"  she  asked. 

"Egyptians." 

"What  are  some  other  brands?" 

"Oh,  Richmond  Gems,  and  Turkish,  and 
Cambridge.      But  why?" 

"Never  mind!"  She  nodded  to  him  and  closed 
the  window.  "We  must  remember  all  those, 
Clara,"  said  she.  "We  must  learn  to  talk  about 
such  things.  Mrs.  Westmacott  knows  all  about 
the  brands  of  cigarettes.    Has  your  rum  come?" 

"Yes,  dear.      It  is  here." 

"And  I  have  my  stout.  Come  along  up  to  my 
room  now.  This  smell  is  too  abominable.  But 
we  must  be  ready  for  him  when  he  comes  back. 
If  we  sit  at  the  window  we  shall  see  him  com- 
ing down  the  road." 

The  fresh  morning  air,  and  the  genial  com- 
pany of  the  Admiral  had  caused  the  Doctor  to 
forget  his  troubles,  and  he  came  back  about 
midday  in  an  excellent  humor.  As  he  opened 
the  hall  door  the  vile  smell  of  chemicals  which 
had  spoilt  his  breakfast  met  him  with  a  re- 
doubled virulence.  He  threw  open  the  hall  win- 
dow, entered  the  dining-room,  and  stood  aghast 
at  the  sight  which  met  his  eyes. 


92  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

Ida  was  still  sitting  among  her  bottles,  with 
a  lit  cigarette  in  her  left  hand  and  a  glass  of 
stout  on  the  table  beside  her.  Clara,  with  an- 
other cigarette,  was  lounging  in  the  easy  chair 
with  several  maps  spread  out  upon  the  floor 
around.  Her  feet  were  stuck  up  on  the  coal 
scuttle,  and  she  had  a  tumblerful  of  some  red- 
dish-brown composition  on  the  smoking  table 
close  at  her  elbow.  The  Doctor  gazed  from 
one  to  the  other  of  them  through  the  thin  grey 
haze  of  smoke,  but  his  eyes  rested  finally  in  a 
settled  stare  of  astonishment  upon  his  elder  and 
more  serious  daughter. 

"Clara!"  he  gasped,  "I  could  not  have  be- 
lieved it!" 

"What  is  it,  papa?" 

"You  are  smoking!" 

"Trying  to,  papa.  I  find  it  a  little  difficult, 
for  I  have  not  been  used  to  it." 

"But  why,  in  the  name  of  goodness — " 

"Mrs.  Westmacott  recommends  it." 

"Oh,  a  lady  of  mature  years  may  do  many 
things  which  a  young  girl  must  avoid." 

"Oh,  no,"  cried  Ida,  "Mrs.  Westmacott  says 
that  there  should  be  one  law  for  all.  Have  a 
cigarette,  pa?" 

"No,  thank  you.  1  never  smoke  in  the 
morning. " 

"No?  Perhaps  you  don't  care  for  the  brands 
What  are  these,  Clara?" 

"Egyptians. " 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  93 

"Ah,  we  must  have  some  Richmond  Gems  or 
Turkish.  I  wish,  pa,  when  you  go  into  town, 
you  would  get  me  some  Turkish." 

"I  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  do  not  at 
all  think  that  it  is  a  fitting  habit  for  young 
ladies.  I  do  not  agree  with  Mrs.  Westmacott 
upon  the  point." 

"Really,  pa!  It  was  you  who  advised  us  to 
imitate  her." 

"But  with  discrimination.  What  is  it  that 
you  are  drinking,  Clara?" 

"Rum,  papa." 

"Rum?  In  the  morning?"  He  sat  down  and 
rubbed  his  eyes  as  one  who  tries  to  shake  off 
some  evil  dream.      "Did  you  say  rum?" 

"Yes,  pa.  They  all  drink  it  in  the  profession 
which  I  am  going  to  take  up." 

"Profession,  Clara?" 

"Mrs.  Westmacott  says  that  every  woman 
should  follow  a  calling,  and  that  we  ought  to 
choose  those  which  women  have  always 
avoided." 

"Quite  so. 

"Well,  I  am  going  to  act  upon  her  advice. 
1  am  going  to  be  a  pilot." 

"My  dear  Clara!  A  pilot!  This  is  too  much." 

"This  is  a  beautiful  book,  papa.  The  Lights, 
Beacons,  Buoys,  Channels,  and  Landmarks  of 
Great  Britain.'  Here  is  another,  'The  Master 
Mariner's  Handbook.'  You  can't  imagine  how 
interesting  it  is." 


94  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"You  are  joking,  Clara.  You  must  be  jok. 
ing!" 

"Not  at  all,  pa.  You  can't  think  what  a  lot 
I  have  learned  already.  I'm  to  carry  a  green 
light  to  starboard,  and  a  red  to  port,  with  a 
white  light  at  the  mast-head,  and  a  flare-up 
■every  fifteen  minutes." 

"Oh,  won't  it  look  pretty  at  night!"  cried 
her  sister. 

"And  I  know  the  fog-signals.  One  blast 
means  that  a  ship  steers  to  starboard,  two  to 
port,  three  astern,  four  that  it  is  unmanageable. 
But  this  man  asks  such  dreadful  questions  at 
the  end  of  each  chapter.  Listen  to  this:  'You 
see  a  red  light.  The  ship  is  on  the  port  tack 
and  the  wind  at  north;  what  course  is  that  ship 
steering  to  a  point?"* 

The  Doctor  rose  with  a  gesture  of  despair. 
"I  can*t  imagine  what  has  come  over  you 
both,"  said  he. 

"My  dear  papa,  we  are  trying  hard  to  live 
up  to  Mrs.  Westmacott's  standard." 

"Well,  I  must  say  that  I  do  not  admire  the 
result.  Your  chemistry,  Ida,  may  perhaps  do 
no  harm;  but  your  scheme,  Clara,  is  out  of  the 
question.  How  a  girl  of  your  sense  could  ever 
entertain  such  a  notion  is  more  than  I  can  im- 
agine. But  I  must  absolutely  forbid  you  to  go 
further  with  it. " 

"But,  pa,"  asked  Ida,  with    an    air    of  inno- 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  95 

cent  inquiry  in  her  big  blue  eyes,  "what  are  we 
to  do  when  your  commands  and  Mrs.  Westma- 
cott's  advice  are  opposed?  You  told  us  to  obey 
her.  She  says  that  when  women  try  to  throw 
off  their  shackles,  their  fathers,  brothers  and 
husbands  are  the  very  first  to  try  to  rivet  them 
on  again,  and  that  in  such  a  matter  no  man 
has  any  authority." 

"Does  Mrs.  Westmacott  teach  you  that  I  am 
not  the  head  of  my  own  house?"  The  Doctor 
flushed,  and  his  grizzled  hair  bristled  in  his 
anger. 

"Certainly.  She  says  that  all  heads  of  houses 
are  relics  of  the  dark  ages. " 

The  Doctor  muttered  something  and  stamped 
his  foot  upon  the  carpet.  Then  without  a  word 
he  passed  out  into  the  garden  and  his  daugh- 
ters could  see  him  striding  furiously  up  and 
down,  cutting  off  the  heads  of  the  flowers  with 
a  switch. 

"Dh,  you  darling!  You  played  your  part  so 
splendidly!"  cried   Ida. 

"But  how  cruel  it  is!  When  I  saw  the  sorrow 
and  surprise  in  his  eyes  I  very  nearly  put  my 
arms  about  him  and  told  him  all.  Don't  you 
think  we  have  done  enough?" 

"No,  no,  no.    Not  nearly  enough.   You    must 
not  turn  weak  now,  Clara.      It  is  so  funny  that* 
I  should  be  leading  you.     It  is  quite  a  new  ex- 
perience. But  I  know  I  am  right.  If  we  go  on  as 


96  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

we  are  doing,  we  shall  be  able  to  say  all  our  lives 
that  we  have  saved  him.  And  if  we  don't,  oh, 
Clara,  we  should  never  forgive  ourselves." 


CHAPTER  X. 

WOMEN  OF  THE    FUTURE. 

From  that  day  the  Doctor's  peace  was  gone. 
Never  was  a  quiet  and  orderly  household  trans- 
formed so  suddenly  into  a  bear  garden,  or  a 
happy  man  turned  into  such  a  completely  mis- 
erable one.  He  had  never  realized  before  how 
entirely  his  daughters  had  shielded  him  from  all 
the  friction  of  life.  Now  that  they  had  not 
only  ceased  to  protect  him,  but  had  themselves 
become  a  source  of  trouble  to  him,  he  began 
to  understand  how  great  the  blessing  was  which 
he  had  enjoyed,  and  to  sigh  for  the  happy  days 
before  his  girls  had  come  under  the  influence  of 
his  neighbor. 

"You  don't  look  happy,"  Mrs.  Westmacott 
had  remarked  to  him  one  morning.  **You  are 
pale  and  a  little  off  color.  You  should  come 
with  me  for  a  ten  mile  spin  upon  the  tandem. " 

"I  am  troubled  about  my  girls."  They  were 
walking  up  and  down  in  the  garden.  From  time 
to  time  there  sounded  from  the  house  behind 
them  the  long,  sad  wail  of  a  French  horn. 

"That  is  Ida,"  said   he.     "She    has  taken  to 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  97 

practicing  on  that  dreadful  instrument  in  the 
intervals  of  her  chemistry.  And  Clara  is  quite 
as  bad.  I  declare  it  is  getting  quite  unen- 
durable. " 

"Ah,  Doctor,  Doctor!"  she  cried,  shaking  her 
forefinger,  with  a  gleam  of  her  white  teeth. 
"You  must  live  up  to  your  principles — you 
must  give  your  daughters  the  same  liberty  as 
you  advocate  for  other  women." 

"Liberty,  madam,  certainly!  But  this  ap- 
proaches to  license." 

"The  same  law  for  all,  my  friend. "  She 
tapped  him  reprovingly  on  the  arm  with  her 
sunshade.  "When  you  were  twenty  your 
father  did  not,  I  presume,  object  to  your  learn- 
ing chemistry  or  playing  a  musical  instrument. 
You  would  have  thought  it  tyranny  if  he  had." 

"But  there  is  such  a  sudden  change  in  them 
both. " 

"Yes,  I  have  noticed  that  they  have  been 
very  enthusiastic  lately  in  the  cause  of  liberty. 
Of  all  my  disciples  I  think  that  they  promise 
to  be  the  most  devoted  and  consistent,  which 
is  the  more  natural  since  their  father  is  one  of 
our  most  trusted  champions. " 

The  Doctor  gave  a  twitch  of  impatience.  *'I 
seem  to  have  lost  all  authority,"  he  cried. 

"No,  no,  my  dear  friend.  They  are  a  little 
exuberant  at  having  broken  the  trammels  of 
custom.     That  is  all.'* 


98  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"You  cannot  think  what  I  have  had  to  put 
up  with,  madam.  It  has  been  a  dreadful  ex- 
perience. Last  night,  after  I  had  extinguished 
the  candle  in  my  bedroom,  I  placed  my  foot 
upon  something  smooth  and  hard,  which  scut- 
tled from  under  me.  Imagine  my  horror!  I 
lit  the  gas,  and  came  upon  a  well-grown  tor- 
toise which  Clara  has  thought  fit  to  introduce 
into  the  house.  I  call  it  a  filthy  custom  to  have 
such  pets.'* 

Mrs.  Westmacott  dropped  him  a  little  courte- 
sy. "Thank  you,  sir,"  said  she.  "That  is  a 
nice  little  side  hit  at  my  poor  Eliza." 

"I  give  you  my  word  that  I  had  forgotten 
about  her,"  cried  the  Doctor,  flushing.  "One 
such  pet  may  no  doubt  be  endured,  but  two 
are  more  than  I  can  bear.  Ida  has  a  monkey 
which  lives  on  the  curtain  rod.  It  is  a  most 
dreadful  creature.  It  wil^  remain  absolutely 
motionless  until  it  sees  that  you  have  forgotten 
its  presence,  and  then  it  will  suddenly  bound 
from  picture  to  picture  all  round  the  walls,  and 
end  by  swinging  down  on  the  bell-rope  and 
jumping  on  to  the  top  of  your  head.  At  breakfast 
it  stole  a  poached  egg  and  daubed  it  all  over  the 
door  handle.  Ida  calls  these  outrages  amusing 
tricks." 

"Oh,  all  will  come  right,"  said  the  widow 
reassuringly. 

"And  Clara  is  as  bad,  Clara  who   used  to  be 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  99 

so  good  and  sweet,  the  very  image  of  her  poor 
mother.  She  insists  upon  this  preposterous 
scheme  of  being  a  pilot,  and  will  talk  of  noth- 
ing but  revolving  lights  and  hidden  rocks,  and 
codes  of    signals,  and    nonsense   of   the  kind.'* 

"But  why  preposterous?"  asked  his  compan- 
ion. "What  nobler  occupation  can  there  be 
than  that  of  stimulating  commerce,  and  aiding 
the  mariner  to  steer  safely  into  port?  I  should 
think  your  daughter  admirably  adapted  for  such 
duties." 

"Then  I  must  beg  to  differ  from  you,  madam. " 

"Still,  you  are  inconsistent." 

"Excuse  me,  madam,  I  do  not  see  the  matter 
in  the  same  light.  And  I  should  be  obliged  to 
you  if  you  would  use  your  influence  with  my 
daughter  to  dissuade  her. " 

"You  wish  to  make  me  inconsistent  too." 

"Then  you  refuse?" 

"I  am  afraid  that  I  cannot  interfere." 

The  Doctor  was  very  angry.  "Very  well, 
madam,"  said  he.  "In  that  case  I  can  only  say 
that  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  a  very  good 
morning. "  He  raised  his  broad  straw  hat  and 
strode  away  up  the  gravel  path,  while  the  widow 
looked  after  him  with  twinkling  eyes.  She  was 
surprised  herself  to  find  that  she  liked  the  Doc- 
tor better  the  more  masculine  and  aggressive 
he  became.  It  was  unreasonable  and  against 
all  principle,  and  yet  so  it  was  and  no  argu- 
ment could  mend  the  matter. 


100  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

Very  hot  and  angry,  the  Doctor  retired  into 
his  room  and  sat  down  to  read  his  paper.  Ida 
had  retired,  and  the  distant  wails  of  the  bugle 
showed  that  she  was  upstairs  in  her  boudoir. 
Clara  sat  opposite  to  him  with  her  exasperating 
charts  and  her  blue  book.  The  Doctor  glanced 
at  her  and  his  eyes  remained  fixed  in  astonish- 
ment upon  the  front  of  her  skirt. 

"My  dear  Clara,"  he  cried,  "you  have  torn 
your  skirt!" 

His  daughter  laughed  and  smoothed  out  her 
frock.  To  his  horror  he  saw  the  red  plush  of 
the  chair  where  the  dress  ought  to  have  been 
"It  is  all  torn!"  he  cried.  "What  have  you 
done?" 

"My  dear  papa!"  said  she,  "what  do  you  know 
about  the  mysteries  of  ladies'  dress?  This  is 
a  divided  skirt." 

Then  he  saw  that  it  was  indeed  so  arranged, 
and  that  his  daughter  was  clad  in  a  sort  of 
loose,  extremely  long  knickerbockers. 

"It  will  be  so  convenient  for  my  sea-boots," 
she  explained. 

Her  father  shook  his  head  sadly.  "Your  dear 
mother  would  not  have  liked  it,  Clara, "  said  he. 

For  a  moment  the  conspiracy  was  upon  the 
point  of  collapsing.  There  was  something  in 
the  gentleness  of  his  rebuke,  and  in  his  appeal 
to  her  mother,  which  brought  the  tears  to  her 
eyes,    and  in  another    instant  she  would  have 


BEYOND  THE  CITY',    ,     .,       .;     101 

been  kneeling  beside  him  with'ev,t5rythiil^.t:on7 
fessed,  when  the  door  flew  open  'and 'her  sister 
Ida  came  bounding  into  the  room.  She  wore  a 
short  grey  skirt,  like  that  of  Mrs.  Westmacott, 
and  she  held  it  up  in  each  hand  and  danced 
about  among  the  furniture. 

"I  feel  quite  the  Gaiety  girl!"  she  cried. 
"How  delicious  it  must  be  to  be  upon  the  stage  I 
You  can't  think  how  nice  this  dress  is,  papa. 
One  feels  so  free  in  it.  And  isn't  Clara  charm- 
ing?" 

"Go  to  your  room  this  instant  and  take  it  off!" 
thundered  the  Doctor.  "I  call  it  highly  im- 
proper, and  no  daughter  of  mine  shall  wear  it. " 

"Papa!  Improper!  Why,  it  is  the  exact 
model  of  Mrs.  Westmacott' s." 

"I  say  it  is  improper.  And  yours  also,  Clara! 
Your  conduct  is  really  outrageous.  You  drive 
me  out  of  the  house.  I  am  going  to  my  club 
in  town.  I  have  no  comfort  or  peace  of  mind 
in  my  own  house.  I  will  stand  it  no  longer.  I 
may  be  late  to-night — I  shall  go  to  the  British 
Medical  meeting.  But  when  I  return  I  shall 
hope  to  find  that  you  have  reconsidered  your 
conduct,  and  that  you  have  shaken  yourself 
clear  of  the  pernicious  influences  which  have 
recently  made  such  an  alteration  in  your  con- 
duct."  He  seized  his  hat,  slammed  the  dining- 
room  door,  and  a  few  minutes  later  they  heard 
the  crash  of  the  big  front  gate. 


102  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

'•yictory,;, Clara,  victory!"  cried  Ida,  still 
pirouetting  atound  the  furniture.  "Did  you 
hear  what  he  said?  Pernicious  influences! 
Don't  you  understand,  Clara?  Why  do  you  sit 
there  so  pale  and  glum?  Why  don't  you  get 
up  and  dance?" 

"Oh,  I  shall  be  so  glad  when  it  is  over,  Ida. 
I  do  hate  to  give  him  pain.  Surely  he  has 
learned  now  that  it  is  very  unpleasant  to  spend 
one's  life  with  reformers." 

"He  has  almost  learned  it,  Clara.  Just  one 
more  little  lesson.  We  must  not  risk  all  at  this 
last  moment." 

"What  would  you  do,  Ida?  Oh,  don't  do 
anything  too  dreadful.  I  feel  that  we  have 
gone  too  far  already." 

"Oh,  we  can  do  it  very  nicely.  You  see  we 
are  both  engaged  and  that  makes  it  very  easy. 
Harold  will  do  what  you  ask  him,  especially 
as  you  have  told  him  the  reason  why,  and  my 
Charles  will  do  it  without  even  wanting  to  know 
the  reason.  Now  you  know  what  Mrs.  West- 
macott  thinks  about  the  reserve  of  young  la- 
dies. Mere  prudery,  affectation,  and  a  relic  of 
the  dark  ages  of  the  Zenana,  Those  were  her 
words,  were  they  not?" 

"What  then?" 

"Well,  now  we  must  put  it  in  practice.  We 
are  reducing  all  her  other  views  to  practice, 
and  we  must  not  shirk  this  one." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  103 

"But  what  would  you  do?  Qh,-  don't  k^oijso 
wicked,  Ida!  You  look  like  seme  evil  little 
fairy,  with  your  golden  hair  and  dancing,  mis- 
chievous eyes.  ,  I  know  that  you  are  going  to 
propose  something  dreadful!" 

"We  must  give  a  little  supper  to-night." 

"We?     A  supper!" 

"Why  not?  Young  gentlemen  give  suppers. 
Why  not  young  ladies?" 

"But  whom  shall  we  invite?" 

"Why,     Harold  and  Charles  of  course." 

"And  the  Admiral  and  Mrs.  Hay  Denver?" 

"Oh,  no.  That  would  be  very  old-fashioned. 
We  must  keep  up  with  the  times,  Clara. " 

"But  what  can  we  give  them  for  supper?" 

"Oh,  something  with  a  nice,  fast,  rollicking, 
late-at-night-kind  of  flavor  to  it.  Let  me  see! 
Champagne,  of  course — and  oysters.  Oysters 
will  do.  In  the  novels,  all  the  naughty  people 
take  champagne  and  oysters.  Besides,  they 
won't  need  any  cooking.  How  is  your  pocket- 
money,  Clara?" 

"I  have  three  pounds." 

"And  I  have  one.  Four  pounds.  I  have  no 
idea  how  much  champagne  costs.      Have  you?" 

"Not  the  slightest." 

"How  many  oysters  does  a  man  eat?" 

"I  can't  imagine." 

"I'll  write  and  ask  Charles.  No,  I  won't. 
I'll  ask  Jane.  Ring  for  her,  Clara.  She  has 
been  a  cook,  and  is  sure  to  know." 


.104  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

Jane^  on  being  cross-questioned,  refused  to 
viommit  :h^V"seif .  beyond  the  statement  that  it 
depended  upon  the  gentleman,  and  also  upon 
the  oysters.  The  united  experience  of  the 
kitchen,  however,  testified  that  three  dozen  was 
a  fair  provision. 

"Then  we  shall  have  eight  dozen  altogether," 
said  Ida,  jotting  down  all  her  requirements 
upon  a  sheet  of  paper.  "And  two  pints  of 
champagne.  And  some  brown  bread,  and  vin- 
egar, and  pepper.  That's  all,  I  think.  It  is 
not  so  very  difficult  to  give  a  supper  after  all, 
is  it,  Clara?" 

"I  don't  like  it,  Ida.  It  seems  to  me  to  be 
so  very  indelicate. " 

"But  it  is  needed  to  clinch  the  matter.  No, 
no,  there  is  no  drawing  back  now,  Clara,  or 
we  shall  ruin  everything.  Papa  is  sure  to  come 
back  by  the  9:45.  He  will  reach  the  door  at 
10.  We  must  have  everything  ready  for  him. 
Now,  just  sit  down  at  once,  and  ask  Harold  to 
come  at  nine  o'clock,  and  I  shall  do  the  same 
to  Charles." 

The  two  invitations  were  dispatched,  received 
and  accepted.  Harold  was  already  a  confidant, 
and  he  understood  that  this  was  some  further 
development  of  the  plot.  As  to  Charles,  he 
was  so  accustomed  to  feminine  eccentricity,  in 
the  person  of  his  aunt,  that  the  only  thing 
which  could  surprise  him  would  be  a  rigid  ob- 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  105 

servance  of  etiquette.  At  nine  o'clock  they 
entered  the  dining-room  of  Number  2,  to  find 
the  master  of  the  house  absent,  a  red-shaded 
lamp,  a  snowy  cloth,  a  pleasant  little  feast,  and 
the  two  whom  they  would  have  chosen,  as  their 
companions.  A  merrier  party  never  met,  and 
the  house  rang  with  their  laughter  and  their 
chatter. 

"It  is  three  minutes  to  ten,"  cried  Clara, 
suddenly,  glancing  at  the  clock. 

"Good  gracious!  So  it  is!  Now  for  our 
little  tableau!  "Ida  pushed  the  champagne  bottles 
obtrusively  forward,  in  the  direction  of  the 
door,  arid  scattered  oyster  shells  over  the  cloth. 

"Have  you  your  pipe,   Charles?" 

"My  pipe!      Yes." 

"Then  please  smoke  it.  Now  don't  argue 
about  it,  but  do  it,  for  you  will  ruin  the  effect 
otherwise. " 

The  large  man  drew  out  a  red  case,  and  ex- 
tracted a  great  yellow  meerschaum,  out  of 
which,  a  moment  later,  he  was  puffing  thick 
wreaths  of  smoke.  Harold  had  lit  a  cigar,  and 
both  the  girls  had  cigarettes. 

"That  looks  very  nice  and  emancipated, "  said 
Ida,  glancing  round.  "Now  I  shall  lie  on  this 
sofa.  So!  Now,  Charles,  just  sit  here,  and 
throw  your  arm  carelessly  over  the  back  of  the 
sofa.  No,  don't  stop  smoking.  I  like  it.  Clara, 
dear,  put  your  feet   upon   the    coalscuttle,  and 


J 06  BEYOND    THE  CITY 

do  try  to  look  a  little  dissipated.  I  wish  wg 
could  crown  ourselves  with  flowers.  There  ai> 
some  lettuces  on  the  sideboard.  Oh  dear, 
here  he  is!  I  hear  his  key."  She  began  to 
sing  in  her  high,fresh  voice  a  little  snatch  from 
a  French  song,  with  a  swinging  tra  la-la  chorus. 

The  Doctor  had  walked  home  from  the  sta- 
tion in  a  peaceable  and  relenting  frame  of 
mind,  feeling  that,  perhaps,  he  had  said  too 
much  in  the  morning,  that  his  daughters  had 
for  years  been  models  in  every  way,  and  that, 
if  there  had  been  any  change  of  late,  it  was, 
as  they  said  themselves,  on  account  of  their 
anxiety  to  follow  his  advice  pnd  to  imitate  Mrs. 
Westmacott.  He  could  see  clearly  enough  now 
that  that  advice  was  unwise,  and  that  a  world 
peopled  with  Mrs.  Westmacotts  would  not  be  a 
happy  or  a  soothing  one.  It  was  he  who  was, 
himself,  to  blame,  and  he  was  grieved  by  the 
thought  that  perhaps  his  hot  words  had 
troubled  and  saddened  his  two  girls. 

This  fear,  however,  was  soon  dissipated.  As 
he  entered  his  hall  he  heard  the  voice  of  Ida 
uplifted  in  a  rollicking  ditty,  and  a  very  strong 
smell  of  tobacco  was  borne  to  his  nostrils.  He 
threw  open  the  dining-room  door,  and  stood 
aghast  at  the  scene  which  met  his  eyes. 

The  room  was  full  of  the  blue  wreaths  of 
smoke,  and  the  lamp-light  shone  through  the 
thin    haze    upon    gold-topped    bottles,    plates, 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  107 

napkins,  and  a  litter  of  oyster  shells  and  ciga- 
rettes. Ida,  flushed  and  excited,  was  reclining 
upon  the  settee,  a  wine-glass  at  her  elbow,  and 
a  cigarette  between  her  fingers,  while  Charles 
Westmacott  sat  beside  her,  with  his  arm  thrown 
over  the  head  of  the  sofa,  with  the  suggestion 
of  a  caress.  On  the  other  side  of  the  room, 
Clara  was  lounging  in  an  arm-chair,  with  Har- 
old beside  her,  both  smoking,  and  both  with 
wine-glasses  beside  them.  The  Doctor  stood 
speechless  in  the  doorway,  staring  at  the  Bac- 
chanalian scene. 

*'Come  in,   papa!     Do!"  cried   Ida.      "Won't 
you  have  a  glass  of  champagne?" 

"Pray  excuse  me,"  said  her  father,  coldly, 
"I  feel  that  I  am  intruding.  I  did  not  know 
that  you  were  entertaining  Perhaps  you  will 
kindly  let  me  know  when  you  have  finished. 
You  will  find  me  in  my  study."  He  ignored 
the  two  young  men  completely,  and,  closing  the 
door,  retired,  deeply  hurt  and  mortified,  to  his 
room.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  he 
heard  the  door  slam,  and  his  two  daughters 
came  to  announce  that  the  guests  were  gone. 

"Guests!  Whose  guests?"    he    cried    angrily. 
"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  exhibition?" 

"We  have  been  giving  a  little  supper,  papa. 
They  were  our  guests. " 

"Oh,  indeed!"     The  Doctor  laughed    sarcas- 
tically.   "You  think  it  right,  then,  to   entertaia 


108  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

young  bachelors    late  at    night,  to    smoke    and 

drink  with  them,  to Oh,  that  I  should  ever 

have  lived  to  blush  for  my  own  daughters!  I 
thank  God  that  your  dear  mother  never  saw  the 
day.  " 

•'Dearest  papa,"  cried  Clara,  throwing  her 
arms  about  him.  "Do  not  be  angry  with  us. 
If  you  understood  all,  you  would  see  that  there 
is  no  harm  in  it." 

"No  harm,  miss!  Who  is  the  best  judge  of 
that?" 

"Mrs.  Westmacott,"  suggested  Ida,  slyly. 
The  Doctor  sprang  from  his  chair.  "Con- 
found Mrs.  Westmacott!"  he  cried,  striking 
frenziedly  into  the  air  with  his  hands.  "Am  I 
to  hear  of  nothing  but  this  woman?  Is  she  to 
confront  me  at  every  turn?  I  will  endure  it  no 
longer. " 

"But  it  was  your  wish,  papa." 
"Then  I  will  tell  you   now    what    my  second 
and  wiser  wish  is,  and  we  shall  see  if  you  will 
obey  it  as  you  have  the  first." 
"Of  course  we  will,  papa." 
"Then  my    wish    is,  that   you   should    forget 
these  odious  notions  which  you  have    imbibed, 
that  you  should  dress  and  act  as  you  used  to  do, 
before  ever  you  saw    this  woman,  and    that,  in 
future,  you  confine  your    intercourse  with    her 
to    such    civilities    as    are    necessary    between 
neighbors. " 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  109 

"We  are  to  give  up  Mrs.  Westmacott?" 

"Or  give  up  me." 

"Oh,  dear  dad,  how  can  you  say  anything  so 
cruel?'*  cried  Ida,  burrowing  her  towsy  golden 
hair  into  her  father's  shirt  front,  while  Clara 
pressed  her  cheek  against  his  whisker.  "Of 
course  we  shall  give   her   up,  if  you  prefer  it.  '* 

"Of  course  we  shall,  papa. " 

The  Doctor  patted  the  two  caressing  heads. 
"These  are  my  own  two  girls  again,"  he  cried. 
"It  has  been  my  fault  as  much  as  yours.  I 
have  been  astray,  and  you  have  followed  me 
in  my  error.  It  was  only  by  seeing  your  mis- 
take that  I  have  become  conscious  of  my  own. 
Let  us  set  it  aside,  and  neither  say  nor  think 
anything  more  about  it." 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  BLOT  FROM   THE  BLUE. 

So  by  the  cleverness  of  two  girls  a  dark  cloud 
was  thinned  away  and  turned  into  sunshine. 
Over  one  of  them,  alas,  another  cloud  was 
gathering,  which  could  not  be  so  easily  dis- 
persed. Of  these  three  households  which  fate 
had  thrown  together,  two  had  already  been 
united  by  ties  of  love.  It  was  destined,  how- 
ever, that  a  bond  of  another  sort  should  connect 
the  Westmacotts  with  the  Hay  Denvers. 


110  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

Between  the  Admiral  and  the  widow  a  very 
cordial  feeling  had  existed  since  the  day  when 
^  the  old  seaman  had  hauled  down  his  flag  and 
changed  his  opinions;  granting  to  the  yachts- 
woman all  that  he  had  refused  to  the  reformer. 
His  own  frank  and  downright  nature  respected 
the  same  qualities  in  his  neighbor,  and  a  friend- 
ship sprang  up  between  them  which  was  more 
like  that  which  exists  between  two  men,  founded 
upon  esteem  and  a  community  of  tastes. 

"By  the  way.  Admiral,"  said  Mrs.  Westma- 
cott  one  morning,  as  they  walked  together 
down  to  the  station,  "I  understand  that  this 
boy  of  yours  in  the  intervals  of  paying  his  de- 
votions tp  Miss  Walker  is  doing  something 
upon  *  Change. " 

"Yes,  ma'am,  and  there  is  no  man  of  his  age 
who  is  doing  so  well.  He's  drawing  ahead,  I 
can  tell  you,  ma*  am.  Some  of  those  that 
started  with  him  are  hull  down  astarn  now. 
He  touched  his  five  hundred  last  year,  and 
before  he's  thirty  he'll  be  making  the  four  fig- 
ures. " 

"The  reason  I  asked  is  that  I  have  small  in- 
vestments to  make  myself  from  time  to  time, 
and  my  present  broker  is  a  rascal.  I  should  be 
very  glad  to  do  it  through  your  son." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,  ma'am.  His  partner 
IS  away  on  a  holiday,  and  Harold  would  like 
to  push  on  a  bit  and    show   what    he    can  do. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  111 

xou  know  the  poop  isn't  big  enough  to  hold 
the  lieutenant   when    the    skipper's    onshore." 

"I  suppose  he  charges  the  usual  half  per 
cent?" 

"Don't  know,  I'm  sure,  ma'am.  I'll  swear 
that  he  does  what  is  right  and  proper. " 

"That  is  what  I  usually  pay — ten  shillings  in 
the  hundred  pounds.  If  you  see  him  before  I 
do  just  ask  him  to  get  me  five  thousand  in  New 
Zealands.  It  is  at  four  just  now,  and  I  fancy 
it  may  rise." 

"Five  thousand!"  exclaimed  the  Admiral, 
reckoning  it  in  his  own  mind.  "Lemme  seel 
That's  twenty-five  pounds  commission.  A  nice 
day's  work,  upon  my  word.  It  is  a  very  hand- 
some order,  ma'am." 

"Well,  I  must  pay  some  one,  and  why  not 
him?" 

"I'll  tell  him, and  I'm  sure  he'll  lose  no  time. " 

"Oh,  there  is  no  great  hurry.  By  the  way,  I 
understand  from  what  you  said  just  now  that 
he  has  a  partner. " 

"Yes,  my  boy  is  the  junior  partner.  Pearson 
is  the  senior.  I  was  introduced  to  him  years 
ago,  and  he  offered  Harold  the  opening.  Of 
course  we  had  a  pretty  stiff  premium   to   pay. " 

Mrs.  Westmacott  had  stopped,  and  was  stand- 
ing very  stiffly  with  her  Red  Indian  face  even 
grimmer  than  usual. 

"Pearson?"  said  she.      "Jeremiah    Pearson?" 

"The  same. " 


liZ  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Then  it's  all  off,**  she  cried.  "You need  not 
carry  out  that  investment. " 

"Very  "-ell,  ma'am.** 

They  '"liked  on  together  side  by  side,  she 
brooding  over  some  thought  of  her  own,  and 
he  a  little  crossed  and  disappointed  at  her  ca- 
price and  the  lost  commission  for  Harold. 

"I  tell  you  what,  Admiral,**  she  exclaimed 
suddenly,  "if  I  were  you  I  should  get  your  boy 
out  of  this  partnership.  '* 

"But  why,  madam?" 

"Because  he  is  tied  to  one  of  the  deepest, 
slyest  foxes  in  the  whole  city  of  London. " 

"Jeremiah  Pearson,  ma'am?  What  can  yc:i 
know  of  him?     He  bears  a  good  name." 

"No  one  in  this  world  knows  Jeremiah  Pear- 
son as  I  know  him,  Admiral.  I  warn  you  be- 
cause I  have  a  friendly  feeling  both  for  you  and 
for  your  son.  The  man  is  a  rogue  and  you  had 
best  avoid  him." 

"But  these  are  only  words,  ma'am.  Do  yo 
tell  me  that  you  know  him  better  than  tli 
brokers  and  jobbers  in  the  City?" 

"Man,"  cried  Mrs.  Westmacott,  "will  yc\ 
allow  that  I  know  him  when  I  tell  you  that  n* 
maiden  name  was  Ada  Pearson,  and  that  Jerc 
miah  is  my  only  brother?" 

The  Admiral  whistled.  "Whew!"  cried  he. 
"Now  that  I  think  of  it,  there  is  a  likeness." 

"He  is  a  man  of  iron,  Admiral — a  man  with 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  113 

out  a  heart.  I  should  shock  you  if  I  were  to 
tell  you  what  I  have  endured  from  my  brother. 
My  father's  wealth  was  divided  equally  between 
us.  His  own  share  he  ran  through  in  five  years, 
and  he  has  tried  since  then  by  every  trick  of 
a  cunning,  low-minded  man,  by  base  cajolery, 
by  legal  quibbles,  by  brutal  intimidation,  to 
juggle  me  out  of  my  share  as  well.  There  is 
no  villainy  of  which  the  man  is  not  capable. 
Oh,  I  know  my  brother  Jeremiah.  I  know  him 
and  I  am  prepared  for  him." 

"This  is  all  new  to  me,  ma'am.  *Pon  my 
word,  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  to  it.  I  thank 
you  for  having  spoken  so  plainly.  From  what 
you  say, this  is  a  poor  sort  of  consort  for  a  man 
to  sail  with.  Perhaps  Harold  would  do  well 
to  cut  himself  adrift." 

"Without  losing  a  day." 

"Well,  we  shall  talk  it  over.  You  may  be 
sure  of  that.  But  here  we  are  at  the  station, 
so  I  will  just  see  you  into  your  carriage  and 
then  home  to  sec  what  my  wife  says  to  the 
matter. " 

As  he  trudged  homewards,  thoughtful  and 
perplexed,  he  was  surprised  to  hear  a  shout  be- 
hind him,  and  to  see  Harold  running  down  the 
road  after  him. 

"Why,^  dad,"  he  cried,  "I  have  just  come 
from  town,  and  the  first  thing  I  saw  was  your 
back  as  you  marched  away.     But  you  are  such 


114  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

a  quick  walker  that  I  had  to  run  to  catch  you." 

The  Admiral's  smile  of  pleasure  had  broken 
his  stern  face  into  a  thousand  wrinkles.  "You 
are  early  to-day,"  said  he. 

"Yes,  I  wanted  to  consult  you. " 

"Nothing  wrong?" 

"Oh  no,  only  an  inconvenience." 

"What  is  it,  then?" 

"How  much  have  we  in  our  private  account?" 

"Pretty  fair.     Some  eight  hundred,  I  think." 

"Oh,  half  that  will  be  ample.  It  was  rather 
thoughtless  of  Pearson." 

"What  then?" 

"Well,  you  see,  dad,  when  he  went  away 
upon  this  little  holiday  to  Havre  he  left  me  to 
pay  accounts  and  so  on.  He  told  me  that  there 
was  enough  at  the  bank  for  all  claims.  I  had 
occasion  on  Tuesday  to  pay  away  two  cheques, 
one  for  jQ^o,  and  the  other  for;^i2o,  and  here 
they  are  returned  with  a  bank  notice  that  we 
have  already  overdrawn  to  the  extent  of  some 
hundreds. " 

The  Admiral  looked  very  grave.  "What's  the 
meaning  of  that,  then?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  it  can  easily  be  set  right.  You  see 
Pearson  invests  all  the  spare  capital  and  keeps 
as  small  a  margin  as  possible  at  the  bank. 
Still  it  was  too  bad  for  him  to  allow  me  even 
to  run  a  risk  of  having  a  cheque  returned.  I 
have  written  to  him  and  demanded  his  authority 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  1 1 5 

to  sell  out  some  stock,  and  I  have  written  an 
explanation  to  these  people.  In  the  meantime, 
however,  I  have  had  to  issue  several  cheques; 
so  I  had  better  transfer  part  of  our  private  ac- 
count to  meet  them.  '* 

"Quite  so,  my  boy.  All  that's  mine  is  yours. 
But  who  do  you  think  this  Pearson  is?  He  is 
Mrs.  Westmacott's  brother." 

"Really.  What  a  singular  thing!  Well,  I 
can  see  a  likeness  now  that  you  mention  it. 
They  have  both  the  same  hard  type  of  face." 

"She  has  been  warning  me  against  him — says 
he  is  the  rankest  pirate  in  London.  I  hope 
that  it  is  all  right,  boy,  and  that  we  may  not 
find  ourselves  in  broken  water." 

Harold  had  turned  a  little  pale  as  he  heard 
Mrs.  Westmacott's  opinion  of  Lis  senior  part- 
ner. It  gave  shape  and  substc.nce  to  certain 
vague  fears  and  suspicions  of  his  own  which 
had  been  pushed  back  as  often  as  they  obtruded 
themselves  as  being  too  monstrous  and  fantas- 
tic for  belief. 

"He  is  a  well-known  man  in  the  City,  dad," 
said  he. 

"Of  course  he  is — of  course  he  is.  That  is 
what  I  told  her.  They  would  have  found  him 
out  there  if  anything  had  been  amiss  with  him. 
Bless  you,  there's  nothing  so  bitter  as  a  fam- 
ily quarrel.   Still  it  is  just  as  well  that  you  have 


116  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

written  about  this  affair,  for  we  may  as  well 
have  all  fair  and  above  board.  ** 

But  Harold's  letter  to  his  partner  was  crossed 
by  a  letter  from  his  partner  to  Harold.  It  lay 
awaiting  him  upon  the  breakfast  table  next 
morning,  and  it  sent  the  heart  into  his  mouth 
as  he  read  it,  and  caused  him  to  spring  up 
from  his  chair  with  a  white  face  and  staring 
eyes. 

"My  boy!      My  boy!" 

"I  am  ruined,  mother — ruined!"  He  stood 
gazing  wildly  in  front  of  him,  while  the  sheet 
of  paper  fluttered  down  on  the  carpet.  Then 
he  dropped  back  into  the  chair,  and  sank  his 
face  into  his  hands.  His  mother  had  her  arms 
round  him  in  an  instant,  while  the  Admiral, 
with  shaking  fingers,  picked  up  the  letter  from 
the  floor  and  adjusted  his  glasses   to  read  it. 

"My  Dear  Denver,"  it  ran.  "By  the  .time 
that  this  reaches  you  I  shall  be  out  of  the  reach 
of  yourself  or  of  any  one  else  who  may  desire  an 
interview.  You  need  not  search  for  me,  for  I 
assure  you  that  this  letter  is  posted  by  a  friend, 
and  that  you  will  have  your  trouble  in  vain  if 
you  try  to  find  me.  I  am  sorry  to  leave  you 
in  such  a  tight  place,  but  one  or  other  of  us 
must  be  squeezed,  and  on  the  whole  I  prefer 
that  it  should  be  you.  You'll  find  nothing  in 
the  bank,  and  about  ^13,000  unaccounted  for. 
I'm  not  sure  that  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  117 

not  to  realize  what  you  can,  and  imitate  your 
senior's  example.  If  you  act  at  once  you  may 
get  clean  away.  If  not,  it's  not  only  that  you 
must  put  up  your  shutters,  but  I  am  afraid  that 
this  missing  money  could  hardly  be  included 
as  an  ordinary  debt,  and  of  course  you  are  le- 
gally responsible  for  it  just  as  much  as  I  am. 
Take  a  friend's  advice  and  get  to  America.  A 
young  man  with  brains  can  always  do  some- 
thing out  there,  and  you  can  livedown  this  lit- 
tle mischance.  It  will  be  a  cheap  lesson  if  it 
teaches  you  to  take  nothing  upon  trust  in  bus- 
iness, and-  to  insist  upon  knowing  exactly  what 
your  partner  is  doing,  however  senior  he  may 
be  to  you. 

"Yours  faithfully, 

"Jeremiah  Pearson." 

"Great  Heavens!"  groaned  the  Admiral,   "he 
has  absconded. " 

"And  left  me  both  a   bankrupt   and   a  thief." 

"No,  no,  Harold,"  sobbed  his  mother.      "All 

will  be  right.     What  matter  about  money!" 

"Money,  mother!     It  is  my  honor." 

"The  boy  is  right.      It  is  his  honor,  and  my 

honor,  for  his  is  mine.     This  is  a  sore  trouble, 

mother,  when  we    thought   our    life's   troubles 

were  all  behind  us,  but  we  will    bear  it  as  we 

have  borne  others."     He  held  out    his  stringy 

hand,  and    the  two    old    folk    sat  with    bowed 


118  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

grey  heads,  their  fingers  intertwined,  strong  in 
each  other's  love  and  sympathy. 

"We  were  too  happy,"  she  sighed. 

"But  it  is  God's  will,  mother." 

"Yes,  John,  it  is  God's  will." 

"And  yet  it  is  bitter  to  bear.  I  could  hava 
lost  all,  the  house,  money,  rank — I  could  have 
borne  it.  But  at  my  age — my  honor — the  honor 
of  an  admiral  of  the  fleet." 

"No  honor  can  be  lost,  John,  where  no  dis- 
honor has  been  done.  What  have  you  done? 
What  has  Harold  done?  There  is  no  question 
of  honor." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head,  but  Harold  had 
already  called  together  his  clear  practical  sense, 
which  for  an  instant  in  the  presence  of  this 
frightful  blow  had    deserted  him. 

"The  mater  is  right,  dad, "  said  he.  "It  is  bad 
enough.  Heaven  knows,  but  we  must  not  take 
too  dark  a  view  of  it.  After  all,  this  insolent 
letter  is  in  itself  evidence  that  I  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  schemes  of  the  base  villain  who 
VvTote  it. " 

"They  may  think  it  prearranged. " 

"They  could  not.  My  whole  life  cries  out 
against  the  thought.  They  could  not  look  me 
in  the  face  and  entertain  it.** 

"No,  boy,  not  if  they  have  eyes  in  their 
heads,"  cried  the  Admiral,  pluckitig  up  cour- 
age at  the  sight  of  the  flashing  eyes  and  brave, 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  IID 

defiant  face.  "We  have  the  letter,  and  we  have 
your  character.  We'll  weather  it  yet  between 
them.  It's  my  fault  from  the  beginning  for 
choosing  such  a  land-shark  for  3^our  consort. 
God  help  me,  I  thought  I  was  finding  such  an 
opening  for  you. " 

"Dear  dad!  How  could  you  possibly  know? 
As  he  says  in  his  letter,  it  has  given  me  a 
lesson.  But  he  was  so  much  older  and  so  much 
more  experienced,  that  it  was  hard  for  me  to 
ask  to  examine  his  books.  But  we  must  waste 
no  time.     I  must  go  to  the  City." 

"What  will  you  do?" 

"What  an  honest  man  should  do.  I  will 
write  to  all  our  clients  and  creditors,  assemble 
them,  lay  the  whole  matter  before  them,  read 
them  the  letter  and  put  myself  absolutely  in 
their  hands." 

"That's  it,  boy — yard-arm  to  yard-arm,  and 
have  it  over. " 

"I  must  go  at  once."  He  put  on  his  top-coat 
and  his  hat.  "But  I  have  ten  minutes  yet  be- 
fore I  can  catch  a  train.  There  is  one  little 
thing  which  I  must  do  before  I  start." 

He  had  caught  sight  through  the  long  glass 
folding  door  of  the  gleam  of  a  white  blouse 
and  a  straw  hat  in  the  tennis  ground.  Clara 
used  often  to  meet  him  there  of  a  morning  to 
say  a  few  words  before  he  hurried  away  into 
the  City.      He  walked  out  now  with  the  quick, 


120  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

firm  step  of  a  man  who  has  taken  a  momentous 
resolution,  but  his  face  was  haggard  and  his 
lips  pale. 

"Clara,"  said  he,  as  she  came  towards  him 
with  words  of  greeting,  "I  am  sorry  to  bring 
ill  news  to  you,  but  things  have  gone  wrong  in 
the  City,  and — and  I  think  that  I  ought  to  re- 
lease you  from  your  engagement. " 

Clara  stared  at  him  with  her  great  question- 
ing dark  eyes,  and  her  face  became  as  pale  as 
his. 

"How  can  the  City  affect  you  and  me,  Har- 
old?" 

"It  is  dishonor.  I  cannot  ask  you  to  share 
it." 

"Dishonor!  The  loss  of  some  miserable  gold 
and  silver  coins!" 

"Oh,  Clara,  if  it  were  only  that!  We  could 
be  far  happier  together  in  a  little  cottage  in 
the  country  than  with  all  the  riches  of  the  City. 
Poverty  could  not  cut  me  to  the  heart,  as  I 
have  been  cut  this  morning.  Why,  it  is  but 
twenty  minutes  since  I  had  the  letter,  Clara, 
and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  some  old,  old  thing 
which  happened  far  away  in  my  past  life,  some 
horrid  black  cloud  which  shut  out  all  the  fresh- 
ness and  the  peace  from  it." 

"But  what  is  it,  then?  What  do  you  fear 
worse  than  poverty?" 

'*To  have  debts  that  I  cannot  meet.     To  be 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  121 

hammered  upon  'Change  and  declared  a  bank- 
rupt. To  know  that  others  have  a  just  claim 
upon  me  and  to  feel  that  I  dare  not  meet  their 
eyes.      Is  not  that  worse  than  poverty?" 

"Yes,  Harold,  a  thousand  fold  worse!  But 
all  this  may  be  got  over.  Is  there  nothing 
more?" 

"My  partner  has  fled  and  left  me  responsible 
for  heavy  debts,  and  in  such  a  position  that  I 
may  be  required  by  the  law  to  produce  some  at 
least  of  this  missing  money.  It  has  been  con- 
fided to  him  to  invest,  and  he  has  embezzled  it. 
I,  as  his  partner,  am  liable  for  it.  I  have 
brought  misery  on  all  whom  I  love — my  father, 
my  mother.  But  you  at. least  shall  not  be  un- 
der the  shadow.  You  are  free,  Clara.  There 
is  no  tie  between  us." 

"It  takes  two  to  make  such  a  tie,  Harold," 
said  she,  smiling  and  putting  her  hand  inside 
his  arm.  "It  takes  two  to  make  it,  dear,  and 
also  two  to  break  it.  Is  that  the  way  they  do 
business  in  the  City,  sir,  that  a  man  can  always 
at  his  own  sweet  will  tear  up  his  engagement?" 

"You  hold  me  to  it,  Clara?" 

"No  creditor  so  remorseless  as  I,  Harold. 
Never,     never   shall  you  get    from  that   bond." 

"But  I  am  ruined.    My  whole  life  is  blasted." 

"And  so  you  wish  to  ruin  me,  and  blast  my 
life  also.  No  indeed,  sir,  you  shall  not  get 
away  so  lightly.     But    seriously    now,  Harold, 


122  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

you  would  hurt  me  if  it  were  not  so  absurd. 
Do  you  think  that  a  woman's  love  is  like  this 
sunshade  which  I  carry  in  my  hand,  a  thing 
only  fitted  for  the  sunshine,  and  of  no  use  when 
the  winds  blow  and  the  clouds  gather?" 

"I  would  not  drag  you  down,  Clara." 

"Should  I  not  be  dragged  down  indeed  if  I 
left  your  side  at  such  a  time?  It  is  only  now 
that  I  can  be  of  use  to  you,  help  you,  sustain 
you.  You  have  always  been  so  strong,  so  above 
me.  You  are  strong  still,  but  then  two  will  be 
stronger.  Besides,  sir,  you  have  no  idea  what 
a  woman  of  business  I  am.  Papa  says  so,  and 
he  knows. " 

Harold  tried  to  speak,  but  his  heart  was  too 
full.  He  could  only  press  the  white  hand  which 
curled  round  his  sleeve.  She  walked  up  and 
down  by  his  side,  prattling  merrily,  and  send- 
ing little  gleams  of  cheeriness  through  the 
gloom  which  girt  him  in.  To  listen  to  her  he 
might  have  thought  that  it  was  Ida,  and  not 
her  staid  and  demure  sister,  who  was  chatting 
to  him. 

"It  will  soon  be  cleared  up,"  she  said,  "and 
then  we  shall  feel  quite  dull.  Of  course  all 
business  men  have  these  little  ups  and  downs. 
Why,  I  suppose  of  all  the  men  you  meet  upon 
'Change,  there  is  not  one  who  has  not  some 
such  story  to  tell.  If  everything  was  always 
smooth,  you  know,  then  of    course    every    one 


BEYOND  THE  CITY 

would  turn  stockbroker,  and  you  would  have 
to  hold  your  meetings  in  Hyde  Park.  How 
much  is  it  that  you  need?" 

"More  than  I  can  ever  get.  Not  less  than 
thirteen  thousand  pounds. " 

Clara's  face  fell  as  she  heard  the  amount. 
"What  do  you  purpose  doing?" 

"I  shall  go  to  the  City  now,  and  I  shall  ask 
all  our  creditors  to  meet  me  to-morrow.  I  shall 
read  them  Pearson's  letter,  and  put  myself  into 
their  hands. " 

"And  they,  what  will  they  do?" 

"What  can  they  do?  They  will  serve  writs 
for  their  money,  and  the  firm  will  be  declared 
bankrupt. " 

"And  the  meeting  will  be  to-morrow,  you 
say.     Will  you  take  my  advice?" 

"What  is  it,  Clara?" 

"To  ask  them  for  a  few  days  of  delay.  Who 
knows  what  new  turn  matters  may  take?" 

"What  turn  can  they  take?  I  have  no  means 
of  raising  the  money." 

"Let  us  have  a  few  days." 

"Oh,  we  should  have  that  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  business.  The  legal  formalities  would 
take  them  some  little  time.  But  I  must  go, 
Clara,  I  must  not  seem  to  shirk.  My  place  now 
must  be  at  my  offices." 

"Yes,  dear,  you  are  right.  God  bless  you 
and  guard  you!   I  shall  be  here  in  The  Wilder- 


121  [BEYOND  THE  UTY 

ness,  but  all  day  I  shall  be  by  your  office  table 
at  Throgmorton  Street  in  spirit,  and  if  ever 
you  should  be  sad  you  will  hear  my  little  whis- 
per in  your  ear,  and  know  that  there  is  one 
client  whom  you  will  never  be  able  to  get  rid 
of — never  as  long  as  we  both  live,  dear." 


CHAPTER    XII. 

FRIENDS   IN   NEED. 

"Now,  papa,"  said  Clara  that  morning,  wrin- 
kling her  brows  and  putting  her  finger-tips  to- 
gether with  the  air  of  an  experienced  person  of 
business,  "I  want  to  have  a  talk  to  you  about 
money  matters." 

"Yes,  my  dear."  He  laid  down  his  paper, 
and  looked  a  question. 

"Kindly  tell  me  again,  papa,  how  much 
money  I  have  in  my  very  own  right.  You  have 
often  told  me  before,  but  I  always  forget  fig- 
ures. " 

"You  have  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a 
year  of  your  own,  under  your  aunt's  will." 

"And  Ida?" 

"Ida  has  one  hundred  and  fifty." 

"Now,  I  think  I  can  live  very  well  on  fifty 
pounds  a  year,  papa.      I  am  not    very  extrava- 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  125 

gant,  and  I  could  make  my  own  dresses  if  I 
had  a  sewing-machine." 

"Very  likely,  dear." 

"In  that  case  I  have  two  hundred  a  year 
which  I  could  do  without." 

"If  it  were  necessary." 

"But  it  is  necessary.  Oh,  do  help  me,  like  a 
good,  dear,  kind  papa,  in  this  matter,  for  my 
whole  heart  is  set  upon  it.  Harold  is  in  sore 
need  of  money,  and  through  no  fault  of  his 
own."  With  a  woman's  tact  and  eloquence, 
she  told  the  whole  story.  "Put  yourself  in  my 
place,  papa.  What  is  the  money  to  me?  I 
never  think  of  it  from  year's  end  to  year's  end. 
But  now  I  know  how  precious  it  is.  I  could 
not  have  thought  that  money  could  be  so  val- 
uable. See  what  I  can  do  with  it.  It  may  help 
to  save  him.  I  must  have  it  by  to-morrow. 
Oh,  do,  do  advise  me  as  to  what  I  should  do, 
and  how  I  should  get  the  money." 

The  Doctor  smiled  at  her  eagerness.  "You 
are  as  anxious  to  get  rid  of  money  as  others 
are  to  gain  it,"  said  he.  "In  another  case  l 
might  think  it  rash,  but  I  believe  in  your  Har- 
old, and  I  can  see  that  he  has  had  villainous 
treatment.  You  will  let  me  deal  with  the  mat- 
ter. " 

"You,  papa?" 

"It  can  be  done  best  between  men.  Your  cap- 
ital, Clara,  is  some  five  thousand  pounds,  but 


126  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

it  is  out  on  a  mortgage,  and  you  could  not 
call  it  in." 

"Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!" 

"But  we  can  still  manage.  I  have  as  much 
at  my  bank.  I  will  advance  it  to  the  Den  vers 
as  coming  from  you,  and  you  can  repay  it  to 
me,  or  the  interest  of  it,  when  your  money  be- 
comes due." 

"Oh,  that  is  beautiful!  How  sweet  and  kind 
of  you!" 

"But  there  is  one  obstacle:  I  do  not  think 
that  you  would  ever  induce  Harold  to  take  this 
money. " 

Clara's  face  fell.  "Don't  you  think  so,  re- 
ally?" 

"I  am  sure  that  he  would  not." 

"Then  what  are  you  to  do?  What  horrid 
things  money  matters  are  to  arrange!" 

"I  shall  see  his  father.  We  can  manage  it  all 
between  us." 

"Oh,  do,  do,  papa!  And  you  will  do  it 
soon?" 

"There  is  no  time  like  the  present.  I  will 
go  in  at  once."  He  scribbled  a  cheque,  put  it 
in  an  envelope,  put  on  his  broad  straw  hat,  and 
strolled  in  through  the  garden  to  pay  his  morn- 
ing call. 

It  was  a  singular  sight  which  met  his  eyes  as 
he  entered  the  sitting-room  of  the  Admiral.  A 
great  sea  chest  stood  open  in  the  center,  and  all 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  127 

round  upon  the  carpet  were  little  piles  of  jer- 
seys, oil-skins,  books,  sextant  boxes,  instru- 
ments, and  sea-boots.  The  old  seaman  sat 
gravely  amidst  this  lumber,  turning  it  over,  and 
examining  it  intently;  while  his  wife,  with  the 
tears  running  silently  down  her  ruddy  cheeks, 
sat  upon  the  sofa,  her  elbows  upon  her  knees 
and  her  chin  upon  her  hands,  rocking  herself 
slowly  backwards  and  forwards. 

"Hullo,  Doctor,"  said  the  Admiral,  holding 
out  his  hand,  "there's  foul  weather  set  in  upon 
us,  as  you  may  have  heard,  but  I  have  ridden 
out  many  a  worse  squall,  and,  please  God,  we 
shall  all  three  of  us  weather  this  one  also, 
though  two  of  us  are  a  little  more  cranky  than 
we  were." 

"My  dear  friends,  I  came  in  to  tell  you  how 
deeply  we  sympathize  with  you  all.  My  girl 
has  only  just  told  me  about  it." 

"It  has  come  so  suddenly  upon  us.  Doctor,** 
sobbed  Mrs.  Hay  Denver.  "I  thought  that  I 
had  John  to  myself  for  the  rest  of  our  lives — 
Heaven  knows  that  we  have  not  seen  very  much 
of  each  other — but  now  he  talks  of  going  to 
sea  again." 

"Aye,  aye,  Walker,  that's  the  only  way  out 
of  it.  When  I  first  heard  of  it  I  was  thrown 
up  in  the  wind  with  all  aback.  I  give  you  my 
word  that  I  lost  my  bearings  more  completely 
than  ever  since  I    strapped  a    middy's  dirk    to 


128  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

my  belt.  You  see,  friend,  I  know  something  of 
shipwreck  or  battle  or  whatever  may  come 
upon  the  waters,  but  the  shoals  in  the  City  of 
London  on  which  my  poor  boy  has  struck  are 
clean  beyond  me.  Pearson  had  been  my  pilot 
there,  and  now  I  know  him  to  be  a  rogue.  But 
I've  taken  my  bearings  now,  and  I  see  my 
course  right  before  me." 

"What  then.  Admiral?" 

"Oh,  I  have  one  or  two  little  plans.  I'll 
have  some  news  for  the  boy.  Why,  hang  it, 
Walker  man,  I  may  be  a  bit  stiff  in  the  joints, 
but  you'll  be  my  witness  that  I  can  do  my 
twelve  miles  under  the  three  hours.  What  then? 
My  eyes  are  as  good  as  ever  except  just  for  the 
newspaper.  My  head  is  clear.  I'm three-and- 
sixty,  but  I'm  as  good  a  man  as  ever  I  was — 
too  good  a  man  to  lie  up  for  another  ten  years. 
I'd  be  the  better  for  a  smack  of  the  salt  water 
again,  and  a  whiff  of  the  breeze.  Tut,  mother, 
it's  not  a  four  years'  cruise  this  time.  I'll  be 
back  every  month  or  two.  It's  no  more  than 
if  I  went  for  a  visit  in  the  country."  He  was 
talking  boisterously,  and  heaping  his  sea-boots 
and  sextants  back  into  his  chest. 

"And  you  really  think,  my  dear  friend,  of 
hoisting  your  pennant  again?" 

"My  pennant.  Walker?  No,  no.  Her  Maj- 
esty, God  bless  her, has  too  many  young  men  to 
need  an  old  hulk  like  me.     I  should    be  plain 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  12^ 

Mr.  Hay  Denver,  of  the  merchant  service.  I 
daresay  that  I  might  find  some  owner  who 
would  give  me  a  chance  as  second  or  third 
officer.  It  will  be  strange  to  me  to  feel  the 
rails  of  the  bridge  under  my  fingers  once  more. " 

"Tut!  tut!  this  will  never  do,  this  will  never 
do,  Admiral!"  The  Doctor  sat  down  by  Mrs. 
Hay  Denver  and  patted  her  hand  in  token  of 
friendly  sympathy.  "We  must  wait  until  your 
son  has  had  it  out  with  all  these  people,  and  • 
then  we  shall  know  what  damage  is  done,  and 
how  best  to  set  it  right.  It  will  be  time  enough 
then  to  begin  to  muster  our  resources  to  meet 
it." 

"Our  resources!"  The  Admiral  laughed. 
"There's  the  pension.  Tm  afraid,  Walker, 
that  our  resources  won't  need  much  mustering. " 

"Oh,  come,  there  are  some  which  you  may 
not  have  thought  of.  For  example,  Admiral, 
I  had  always  intended  that  my  girl  should 
have  five  thousand  from  me  when  she  married. 
Of  course  your  boy's  trouble  is  her  trouble, 
and  the  money  cannot  be  spent  better  than  in 
helping  to  set  it  right.  She  has  a  little  of  her 
own  which  she  wished  to  contribute,  but  I 
thought  it  best  to  work  it  this  way.  Will  you 
take  th'=i  cheque,  Mrs.  Denver,  and  I  think  it 
would  be  best  if  you  said  nothing  to  Harold 
about  it,  and  just  used  it  as  the  occasion 
served?" 


130  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"God  bless  you,  Walker,  you  are  a  true  friend. 
I  won't  forget  this,  Walker."  The  Admiral  sat 
down  on  his  sea  chest  and  mopped  his  brow 
with  his  red  handkerchief. 

"What  is  it  to  me  whether  you  have  it  now 
or  then?  It  may  be  more  useful  now.  There's 
only  one  stipulation.  If  things  should  come  to 
the  worst,  and  if  the  business  should  prove  so 
bad  that  nothing  can  set  it  right,  then  hold 
back  this  cheque,  for  there  is  no  use  in  pour- 
ing water  into  a  broken  basin,  and  if  the  lad 
should  fall,  he  will  want  something  to  pick 
himself  up  again  with." 

"He  shall  not  fall,  Walker,  and  you  shall 
not  have  occasion  to  be  ashamed  of  the  family 
into  which  your  daughter  is  about  to  marry. 
I  have  my  own  plan.  But  we  shall  hold  your 
money,  my  friend,  and  it  will  strengthen  us  to 
feel  that  it  is  there." 

"Well,  that  is  all  right,"  said  Doctor 
Walker,  rising.  "And  if  a  little  more  should 
be  needed,  we  must  not  let  him  go  wrong  for 
the  want  of  a  thousand  or  two.  And  now,  Ad- 
miral, I'm  off  for  my  morning  walk.  Won*t 
you  come  too?" 

"No,  I  am  going  into  town." 

"Well,  good-bye.  I  hope  to  have  better  news, 
and  that  all  will  come  right  Good-bye,  Mrs. 
Denver.  I  feel  as  if  the  boy  were  my  own,  and 
I  shall  not  be  easy  until  all  is  right  with  him.* 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN   STRANGE  WATERS. 

When  Doctor  Walker  had  departed,  the  Ad- 
miral packed  all  his  possessions  back  into  his 
sea  chest  with  the  exception  of  one  little  brass- 
bound  desk.  This  he  unlocked,  and  took  from 
it  a  dozen  or  so  blue  sheets  of  paper  all  mot- 
tled over  with  stamps  and  seals,  with  very  large 
V.  R.  *s  printed  upon  the  heads  of  them.  He 
tied  these  carefully  into  a  small  bundle,  and 
placing  them  in  the  inner  pocket  of  his  coat,  he 
seized  his  stick  and  hat. 

"Oh,  John,  don't  do  this  rash  thing,"  cried 
Mrs.  Denver,  laying  her  hands  upon  his  sleeve. 
"I  have  seen  so  little  of  you,  John.  Only  three 
years  since  you  left  the  service.  Don't  leave 
me  again.  I  know  it  is  weak  of  me,  but  I  can- 
not bear  it." 

"There's  my  own  brave  lass,"  said  he, 
smoothing  down  the  grey-shot  hair.  "We've 
lived  in  honor  together,  mother,  and  please 
God  in  honor  we'll  die.  No  matter  how  debts 
are  made,  they  have  got  to  be  met,  and  what 
the  boy  owes  we  owe.  He  has  not  the  money, 
and  how  is  he  to  find  it?  He  can't  find  it. 
What  then?  It  becomes  my  business,  and 
there's  only  one  way  for  it." 
131 


132  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"But  it  may  not  be  so  very  bad,  John.  Had 
we  not  best  wait  until  after  he  sees  these  peo- 
ple to-morrow?"  ^_ 

"They  may  give  him  little  time,  lass.  B^| 
ril  have  a  care  that  I  don't  go  so  far  that  I 
can't  put  back  again.  Now,  mother,  there's 
no  use  holding  me.  It's  got  to  be  done,  and 
there's  no  sense  in  shirking  it."  He  detached 
her  fingers  from  his  sleeve,  pushed  her  gently 
back  into  an  arm-chair,  and  hurried  from  the 
house. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  the  Admiral  was 
whirled  into  Victoria  Station  and  found  himself 
amid  a  dense  bustling  throng,  who  jostled  and 
pushed  in  the  crowded  terminus.  His  errand, 
which  had  seemed  feasible  enough  in  his  own 
room,  began  now  to  present  difficulties  in  the 
carrying  out,  and  he  puzzled  over  how  he 
Should  take  the  first  steps.  Amid  the  stream 
of  business  men,  each  hurrying  on  his  definite 
way,  the  old  seaman  in  his  grey  tweed  suit  and 
black  soft  hat  strode  slowly  along,  his  head  sunk 
and  his  brow  wrinkled  in  p>erplexity.  Suddenly 
an  idea  occurred  to  him.  He  walked  back  to 
the  railway  stall  and  bought  a  daily  paper. 
This  he  turned  and  turned  until  a  certain  col- 
umn met  his  eye,  when  he  smoothed  it  out, 
and  carrying  it  over  to  a  seat,  proceeded  to 
read  it  at  his  leisure. 

And,  indeed,  as  a  man  read  that    column,  it 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  133 

I 

seem'ed  strange  to  him  that  there  should  still 
remain  any  one  in  this  world  of  ours  who 
should  be  in  straits  for  want  of  money.  Here 
were  whole  lines  of  gentlemen  who  were  bur- 
dened with  a  surplus  in  their  incomes,  and 
who  were  loudly  calling  to  the  poor  and  needy 
to  come  and  take  it  off  their  hands.  Here  was 
the  guileless  person  who  was  not  a  professional 
moneylender,  but  who  would  be  glad  to  cor- 
respond, etc.  Here  too  was  the  accommodating 
individual  who  advanced  sums  from  ten  to  ten 
thousand  pounds  without  expense,  security,  or 
delay.  "The  money  actually  paid  over  within 
a  few  hours,"  ran  this  fascinating  advertise- 
ment, conjuring  up  a  vision  of  swift  messengers 
t  rushing  with  bags  of  gold  to  the  aid  of  the 
,  poor  struggler.  A  third  gentleman  did  all  bus- 
j  iness  by  personal  application,  advanced  money 
'  on  anything  or  nothing;  the  lightest  and  air- 
iest promise  was  enough  to  content  him  accord- 
ing to  his  circular,  and  finally  he  mever  asked 
for  more  than  five  per  cent.  This  struck  the 
Admiral  as  far  the  most  promising,  and  his 
wrinkles  relaxed,  and  his  frown  softened  away 
as  he  gazed  at  it.  !He  folded  up  the  paper 
rose  from  the  seat,  and  found  himself  face  to 
face  with  Charles  Westmacott. 
"Hullo,  Admiral!" 

"Hullo,  Westmacott!"  Charles  had  always 
been  a  favorite  of  the  seaman's.  "What  are 
you  doing  here?" 


134  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Oh,  I  have  been  doing  a  little  business  fof 
my  aunt.  But  I  have  never  seen  you  in  Lon- 
don before." 

"I  hate  the  place.  It  smothers  me.  There's 
not  a  breath  of  clean  air  on  this  side  of  Green- 
wich. But  maybe  you  know  your  way  about 
pretty  well  in  the  City?" 

"Well,  I  know  something  about  it.  You  see 
I've  never  lived  very  far  from  it,  and  I  do  a 
good  deal  of  my  aunt's  business." 

"Maybe  you  know  Bread  Street?" 

"It  is  out  of  Cheapside." 

"Well  then,  how  do  you  steer  for  it  from 
here?  You  make  me  out  a  course  and  I'll 
keep  to  it." 

"Why,  Admiral,  I  have  nothing  to  do.  I'll 
take  you  there  with  pleasure." 

"Will  you,  though?  Well,  I'd  take  it  very 
kindly  if  you  would.  I  have  business  there. 
Smith  and  Hanbury,  financial  agents,  Bread 
Street. " 

The  pair  made  their  way  to  the  river-side, 
and  so  down  the  Thames  to  St.  Paul's  landing 
— a  mode  of  travel  which  was  much  more  to 
the  Admiral's  taste  than  'bus  or  cab.  On  the 
way,  he  told  his  companion  his  mission  and 
the  causes  which  had  led  to  it.  Charles  West- 
macott  knew  little  enough  of  City  life  and  the 
ways  of  business,  but  at  least  he  had  more  ex- 
perience in  both  than  the  Admiral,  and  he  made 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  135 

up  his  mind  not  to  leave  him  until  the  matter 
was  settled. 

"These  are  the  people,"  said  the  Admiral, 
twisting  round  his  paper,  and  pointing  to  the 
advertisement  which  had  seemed  to  him  the 
most  promising.  "It  sounds  honest  and  above- 
board,  does  it  not?  The  personal  interview 
looks  as  if  there  were  no  trickery,  and  then  no 
one  could  obje(5t  to  five  per  cent." 

"No,  it  seems  fair  enough. " 

"It  is  not  pleasant  to  have  to  go  hat  in  hand 
borrowing  money,  but  there  are  times,  as  you 
may  find  before  you  are  my  age,  Westmacott, 
when  a  man  must  stow  away  his  pride.  But 
here's  their  number,  and  their  plate  is  on  the 
corner  of  the  door. " 

A  narrow  entrance  was  flanked  on  either  side 
by  a  row  of  brasses,  ranging  upwards  from  the 
shipbrokers  and  the  solicitors  who  occupied  the 
ground  floors,  through  a  long  succession  of 
West  Indian  agents,  architects,  surveyors,  and 
brokers,  to  the  firm  of  which  they  were  in  quest. 
A  winding  stone  stair,  well  carpeted  and  railed 
at  first  but  growing  shabbier  with  every  land- 
ing, brought  them  past  innumerable  doors  until, 
at  last,  just  under  the  ground-glass  roofing,  the 
names  of  Smith  and  Hanbury  were  to  be  seen 
painted  in  large  white  letters  across  a  panel, 
with  a  laconic  invitation  to  push  beneath  it. 
Following  out  the  suggestion,  the  Admiral  and 


136  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

his  companion  found  themselves  in  a  dingy 
apartment,  ill  lit  from  a  couple  of  glazed  win- 
dows. An  ink-stained  table,  littered  with  pens, 
papers,  and  almanacs,  an  American  cloth  sofa, 
three  chairs  of  varying  patterns,  and  a  much- 
worn  carpet,  constituted  all  the  furniture,  save 
only  a  very  large  and  obtrusive  porcelain  spit- 
toon, and  a  gaudily  framed  and  very  somber 
picture  which  hung  above  the  fireplace.  Sitting 
in  front  of  this  picture,  and  staring  gloomily 
at  it,  as  being  the  only  thing  which  he  could 
stare  at,  was  a  small  sallow-faced  boy  with  n 
large  head,  who  in  the  intervals  of  his  art  stud- 
ies munched  sedately  at  an  apple. 

*'Is  Mr.  Smith  or  Mr.  Hanbury  in?"  asked 
the  Admiral. 

"There  ain't  no  such  people,"  said  the  small 
boy. 

"But  you  have  the  names  on  the  door." 

"Ah,  that  is  the  name  of  the  firm,  you  see. 
It's  only  a  name.  It's  Mr.  Reuben  Metaxa 
that  you  wants." 

"Well  then,  is  he  in?" 

"No,  he's  not." 

"When  will  he  be  back?" 

"Can't  tell,  I'm  sure.  He's  gone  to  lunch. 
Sometimes  he  takes  one  hour,  and  sometimes 
two.  It'll  be  two  to-day,  I  'spect,  for  he  said 
he  was  hungry  afore  he  went." 

"Then  I  suppose  that  we  had  better  call 
again,"  said  the  Admiral. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  137 

"Not  a  bit,"  cried  Charles.  "I  know  how  to 
manage  these  little  imps.  See  here,  you  young 
varmint,  here's  a  shilling  for  you.  Run  off 
and  fetch  your  master.  If  you  don't  bring  him 
here  in  five  minutes  I'll  clump  you  on  the  side 
of  the  head  when  you  get  back.  Shoo!  Scat!" 
He  charged  at  the  youth,  who  bolted  from  the 
room  and  clattered  madly  down-stairs. 

"He'll  fetch  him,"  said  Charles.  "Let  us 
make  ourselves  at  home.  This  sofa  does  not 
feel  over  and  above  safe  It  was  not  meant  for 
fifteen-stone  men.  But  this  doesn't  look  quite 
the  sort  of  place  where  one  would  expect  to 
pick  up  money." 

"Just  what  I  was  thinking, "  said  the  Admiral, 
looking  ruefully  about  him. 

"Ah,  well!  I  have  heard  that  the  best  fur- 
nished offices  generally  belong  to  the  poorest 
firms.  Let  us  hope  it's  the  opposite  here. 
They  can't  spend  much  on  the  management 
anyhow.  That  pumpkin-headed  boy  was  the 
staff,  I  suppose.  Ha,  by  Jove,  that's  his  voice, 
and  he's  got  our  man,  I  think!" 

As  he  spoke  the  youth  appeared  in  the  door- 
way with  a  small,  brown,  dried-up  little  chip 
of  a  man  at  his  heels.  He  was  clean-shaven 
and  blue-chinned,  with  bristling  black  hair, 
and  keen  brown  eyes  which  shone  out  very 
brightly  from  between  pouched  under-lids  and 
drooping  upper  ones.     He  advanced,  glancing 


138  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

keenly  from  one  to  the  other  of  his  visitors, 
and  slowly  rubbing  together  his  thin,  blue- 
veined  hands.  The  small  boy  closed  the  door 
behind  him,  and  discreetly  vanished. 

"I  am  Mr.  Reuben  Metaxa,"  said  the  money- 
lender. "Was  it  about  an  advance  you  wished 
to  see  me?"  • 

"Yes." 

"For  you,  I  presume?"  turning  to  Charles 
Westmacott. 

"No,  for  this  gentleman. " 

The  money-lender  looked  surprised.  "How 
much  did  you  desire?" 

"I  thought  of  five  thousand  pounds,"  said 
the  Admiral. 

"And  on  what  security?" 

"I  am  a  retired  admiral  of  the  British  navy. 
You  will  find  my  name  in  the  Navy  List.  There 
is  my  card.  I  have  here  my  pension  papers. 
I  get  jQ^S^  a  year.  I  thought  that  perhaps  if 
you  were  to  hold  these  papers  it  would  be  secu- 
rity enough  that  I  should  pay  you.  You  could 
draw  my  pension,  and  repay  yourselves  at  the 
rate,  say,  of  ;^5oo  a  year,  taking  your  five  per 
cent  interest  as  well." 

"What  interest?" 

"Five  per  cent  per  annum." 

Mr.  Metaxa  laughed.  "Per annum!"  he  said. 
"Five  per  cent  a  month. " 

"A  month!  That  would  be  sixty  per  cent  a 
year. " 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  139 

"Precisely. " 

"But  that  is  monstrous." 

"I  don't  ask  gentlemen  to  come  to  me.  They 
come  of  their  own  free  will.  Those  are  my 
terms,  and  they  can  take  it  or  leave  it. " 

"Then  I  shall  leave  it."  The  Admiral  rose 
angrily  from  his  chair. 

"But  one  moment,  sir.  Just  sit  down  and 
we  shall  cha't  the  matter  over.  Yours  is  a  rather 
unusual  case  and  we  may  find  some  other  way 
of  doing  what  you  wish.  Of  course  the  security 
which  you  offer  is  no  security  at  all,  and  no 
sane  man  would  advance  five  thousand  pennies 
on  it." 

"No  security?     Why  not,  sir?" 

"You  might  die  to-morrow.  You  are  not  a 
young  man.     What  age  are  you?" 

"Sixty-three. " 

Mr.  Metaxa  turned  over  a  long  column  of 
figures.  "Here  is  an  actuary's  table,"  said  he. 
"At  your  time  of  life  the  average  expectancy  of 
life  is  only  a  few  years  even  in  a  well-preserved 
man. " 

"Do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  I  am  not  a 
well-preserved  man?" 

"Well,  Admiral,  it  is  a  trying  life  at  sea. 
Sailors  in  their  younger  days  are  gay  dogs,  and 
take  it  out  of  themselves.  Then  when  they 
grow  older  thy  are  still  hard  at  it,  and  have  no 
chance  of  rest  or  peace.  I  do  not  think  a  sail-^ 
or*s  life  a  good  one." 


140  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Pll  tell  you  what,  sir,"  said  the  Admiral 
hotly.  "If  you  have  two  pairs  of  gloves  I'll 
undertake  to  knock  you  out  under  three  rounds. 
Or  rU  race  you  from  here  to  St.  Paul's,  and 
my  friend  here  will  see  fair.  I'll  let  you  see 
whether  I  am  an  old  man  or  not. " 

"This  is  beside  the  question, "  said  the  money- 
lender with  a  deprecatory  shrug.  "The  point 
is  that  if  you  died  to-morrow  where  would  be 
the  security  then?'* 

"I  could  insure  my  life,  and  make  the  policy 
over  to  you." 

"Your  premiums  for  such  a  sum,  if  any  office 
would  have  you,  which  I  very  much  doubt, 
would  come  to  close  on  five  hundred  a  year. 
That  would  hardly  suit  your  book. " 

"Well,  sir,  what  do  you  intend  to  propose?" 
asked  the  Admiral. 

"I  might,  to  accommodate  you,  work  it  in 
another  way.  I  should  send  for  a  medical  man, 
and  have  an  opinion  upon  your  life.  Then  I 
might  see  what  could  be  done. " 

"That  is  quite  fair.  I  have  no  objection  to 
that. " 

"There  is  a  very  clever  doctor  in  the  street 
here.  Proudie  is  his  name.  John,  go  and  fetch 
Doctor  Proudie."  The  youth  was  dispatched 
upon  his  errand,  while  Mr.  Metaxa  sat  at  his 
desk,  trimming  his  nails,  and  shooting  out  lit- 
tle comments  upon  the  weather.   Presently  feet 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  141 

were  heard  upon  the  stairs,  the  moneylender 
hurried  out,  there  was  a  sound  of  whispering, 
and  he  returned  with  a  large,  fat,  greasy-look- 
ing man,  clad  in  a  much  worn  frock-coat,  and 
a  very  dilapidated  top  hat. 

"Doctor  Proudie,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr. 
Metaxa. 

The  doctor  bowed,  smiled,  whipped  off  his 
hat,  and  produced  his  stethoscope  from  its  in- 
terior with  the  air  of  a  conjurer  upon  the  stage. 
"Which  of  these  gentlemen  am  I  to  examine?" 
he  asked,  blinking  from  one  to  the  other  of 
them.  "Ah,  it  is  you!  Only  your  waistcoat! 
You  need  not  undo  your  collar.  Thank  you! 
A  full  breath!  Thank  you!  Ninety-nine! 
Thank  you!  Now  hold  your  breath  for  a  mo- 
ment.    Oh,  dear,  dear,  what  is  this  I  hear?" 

"What  is  it  then?"  asked  the  Admiral  coolly. 

"Tut!  tut!  This  is  a  great  pity.  Have  you 
had  rheumatic  fever?" 

"Never." 

"You  have  had  some  serious  illness?" 

"Never. " 

"Ah,  you  are  an  admiral.  You  have  been 
abroad,  tropics,  malaria,  ague — I  know." 

"I  have  never  had  a  day's  illness." 

"Not  to  your  knowledge;  but  you  have  in- 
haled unhealthy  air,  and  it  has  left  its  effect. 
You  have  an  organic  murmur — slight  but  dis* 
tinct. " 

"Is  it  dangerous?" 


142  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"It  might  at  anytime  become  so.   You  should 
not  take  violent  exercise." 

"Oh,  indeed.    It  would  hurt  me  to  run  a  half 
mile?" 

"It  would  be  very  dangerous." 
"And  a  mile?" 

"Would  be  almost  certainly  fatal." 

"Then  there  is  nothing  else  the  matter?" 

"No.  But  if  the  heart  is  weak,  then  every- 
thing is  weak,  and  the  life  is  not  a  sound  one. " 

"You  see;  Admiral,"  remarked  Mr.  Metaxa, 
as  the  doctor  secreted  his  stethoscope  once 
more  in  his  hat,  "my  remarks  were  not  entirely 
uncalled  for.  I  am  sorry  that  the  doctor's  opin- 
ion is  not  more  favorable,  but  this  is  a  matter 
of  business,  and  certain  obvious  precautions 
must  be  taken." 

"Of  course.      Than  the  matter  is  at  an  end." 

"Well,  we  might  even  now  do  business.  I 
am  most  anxious  to  be  of  use  to  you.  How 
long  do  you  think,  doctor,  that  this  gentleman 
will  in  all  probability  live?" 

"Well,  well,  it's  rather  a  delicate  question  to 
answer,"  said  Mr.  Proudie,  with  a  show  of  em- 
barrassment. 

"Not  a  bit,  sir.  Out  with  it!  I  have  faced 
death  too  often  to  flinch  from  it  now,  though 
I  saw  it  as  near  me  as  you  are." 

"Well,  well,  we  must  go  by  averages  of  course. 
Shall  we  say  two  years?  I  should  think  that 
you  have  a  full  two  years  before  you." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  143 

"In  two  years  your  pension  would  bring  you 
in  ;^i,6oo.  Now  I  will  do  my  very  best  for 
you,  Admiral!  I  will  advance  you  ^2,000,  and 
you  can  make  over  to  me  your  pension  for  your 
life.  It  is  pure  speculation  on  my  part.  If 
you  die  to-morrow  I  lose  my  money.  If  the 
doctor's  prophecy  is  correct  I  shall  still  be  out 
of  pocket.  If  you  live  a  little  longer,  then  I 
may  see  my  itioney  again.  It  is  the  very  best 
I  can  do  for  you. " 

"Then  you  wish  to  buy  my  pension?'* 

"Yes,  for  two  thousand  down. " 

"And  if  I  live  for  twenty  years?" 

"Oh,  in  that  case  of  course  my  speculation 
would  be  more  successful.  But  you  have  heard 
the  doctor's  opinion." 

"Would  you  advance  the  money   instantly?" 

"You  should  have  a  thousand  at  once.  The 
other  thousand  I  should  expect  you  to  take  in 
furniture. " 

"In  furniture?" 

"Yes,  Admiral.  We  shall  do  you  a  beautiful' 
houseful  at  that  sum.  It  is  the  custom  of  my 
clients  to  take  half  in  furniture." 

The  Admiral  sat  in  dire  perplexity.  He  had 
come  out  to  get  money,  and  to  go  back  with- 
out any,  to  be  powerless  to  help  when  his  boy 
needed  every  shilling  to  save  him  from  disaster, 
that  would  be  very  bitter  to  him.  On  the  other 
'and,  it  was  so  much  that  he  surrendered,  and 


144  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

SO  little  that  he  received.  Little,  and  j^et 
something.  Would  it  not  be  better  than  going 
back  empty-handed?  He  saw  the  yellow  backed 
cheque-book  upon  the  table.  The  moneylender 
opened  it  and  dipped  his  pen  into  the  ink. 

"Shall  I  fill  it  up?"  said  he. 

"I  think,  Admiral,"  remarked  Westmacott, 
"that  we  had  better  have  a  little  walk  and 
some  luncheon  before  we  settle  this  matter.  " 

"Oh,  we  may  as  well  do  it  at  once.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  postpone  it  now,"  Metaxa  spoke 
with  some  heat,  and  his  eyes  g.ii.ted  angrily 
from  between  his  narrow  lids  at  th  -  impertur- 
bable Charles.  The  Admiral  was  simpie  in  money 
matters,  but  he  had  seen  much  o  men  and  had 
learned  to  read  them.  He  saw  that  venomous 
glance,  and  saw  too  that  intense  eagerness  was 
peeping  out  from  beneath  the  careless  air  which 
the  agent  had  assumed. 

"You're  quite  right,  Westmacott,"  said  he. 
"We'll  have  a  little  walk  before  we    settle  it.'* 

"But  I  may  not  be  here  this  afternoon." 

"Then  we  must  choose  another  day." 

"But  why  not  settle  it  now?" 

"Because  I  prefer  not,"  said  the  Admiral 
shortly. 

"Very  well.  But  remember  that  my  offer  is 
Dnly  for  to-day.  It  is  off  unless  you  take  it  at 
once. " 

"Let  it  be  off,  then.** 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  i45 

"There's  my  fee,"  cried  the  doctor. 

"How  much?" 

"A  guinea." 

The  Admiral  threw*  a  pound  and  a  shilling 
upon  the  table.  "Come,  Westmacott, "  said  he, 
and  they  walked  together  from  the  room. 

"I  don't  like  it,"  said  Charles,  when  they 
found  themselves  in  the  street  once  more;  "J 
don't  profess  to  be  a  \ery  sharp  chap,  but  this 
is  a  trifle  too  thin.  What  did  he  want  to  go 
out  and  speak  to  the  doctor  for?  And  how 
very  convenient  this  tale  of  a  weak  heart  was! 
I  believe  they  are  a  couple  of  rogues,  and  in 
league  with  each  other." 

"A  shark  and  a  pilot  fish, "  said  the  Admiral. 

"I'li  tell  you  what  I  propose,  sir.  There's 
a  lawyer  named  McAdam  who  does  my  aunt's 
business.  He  is  a  very  honest  fellow,  and  lives 
at  the  other  side  of  Poultry.  We'll  go  over  to 
him  together  and  have  his  opinion  about  the 
whole  matter." 

"How  far  is  it  to  his  place?" 

"Oh,  a  mile  at  least.     We   can  have  a  cab." 

"A  mile?  Then  we  shall  see  if  there  is  any 
truth  in  what  that  swab  of  a  doctor  said. 
Come,  my  boy,  and  clap  on  all  sail,  and  see 
who  can  stay  the  longest." 

Then  the  sober  denizens  of  the  heart  of  bus- 
iness London  saw  a  singular  sight  as  they 
returned  from  tncir  luncheons.  Down  the  road- 


146  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

way,  dodging  among  cabs  and  carts,  ran  a 
weather-stained  elderly  man,  with  wide  flapping 
black  hat,  and  homely  suit  of  tweeds.  With 
elbows  braced  back,  hands  clenched  near  his 
armpits,  and  chest  protruded,  he  scudded  along, 
while  close  at  his  heels  lumbered  a  large-limbed, 
heavy,  yellow  mustached  young  man,  who 
seemed  to  feel  the  exercise  a  good  deal  more 
than  his  senior.  On  they  dashed,  helter-skelter, 
until  they  pulled  up  panting  at  the  office  where 
the  lawyer  of  the  Westmacotts  was  to  be  found. 

"There  now!"  cried  the  Admiral  in  triumph. 
"What  d'ye  think  of  that?  Nothing  wrong  in 
the  engine-room,  eh?" 

"You  seem  fit  enough,  sir." 

"Blessed  if  I  believe  the  swab  was  a  certifi- 
cated doctor  at  all.  He  was  flying  false  colors, 
or  I  am  mistaken." 

"They  keep  the  directories  and  registers  in 
this  eating-house,"  said  Westmacott.  "We'll 
go  and  look  him  out." 

They  did  so,  but  the  medical  rolls  contained 
no  such  name  as  that  of  Dr.  Proudie,  of  Bread 
Street. 

"Pretty  villainy  this!"  cried  the  Admiral, 
thumping  his  chest.  "A  dummy  doctor  and 
a  vamped  up  disease.  Well,  we've  tried  the 
rogues,  Westmacott!  Let  us  see  what  we  can 
do  with  your  honest  man." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

EASTWARD  .HO! 

Mr.  McAdam,  of  the  firm  of  McAdam  and 
Squire,  was  a  highly  polished  man  who  dwelt 
behind  a  highly  polished  table  in  the  neatest 
and  snuggest  of  offices.  He  was  white-haired 
and  amiable,  with  a  deep-lined  aquiline  face, 
was  addicted  to  low  bows,  and  indeed,  always 
seemed  to  carry  himself  at  half-cock,  as  though 
just  descending  into  one,  or  just  recovering 
himself.  He  wore  a  high-buckled  stock,  took 
snuff,  and  adorned  his  conversation  with  little 
scraps  from  the  classics. 

"My  dear  sir,'*  said  he, when  he  had  listened 
to  their  story,  "any  friend  of  Mrs.  Westma- 
cott's  is  a  friend  of  mine.  Try  a  pinch.  I 
wonder  that  you  should  have  gone  to  this  man 
Metaxa.  His  advertisement  is  enough  to  con- 
demn him.  Habet  fcsnum  in  cornu.  They  are 
all  rogues." 

"The  doctor  was  a  rogue  too.  I  didn't  like 
the  look  of  him  at  the  time." 

*' Arcades  ambo.    But  now   we  must  see  what 

we  can  do    for  you.     Of    course    what   Metaxa 

said  was    perfectly    right.      The   pension    is  in 

itself  no  security  at  all,   unless  it    were  accom- 

147 


148  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

panied  by  a  life  assurance  which  would  be  an 
income  in  itself.      It  is  no  good  whatever." 

His  clients'  faces  fell. 

"But  there  is  the  second  alternative.  You 
might  sell  the  pension  right  out.  Speculative 
investors  occasionally  deal  in  such  things.  I 
have  one  client,  a  sporting  man,  who  would  be 
very  likely  to  take  it  up  if  we  could  agree  upon 
terms.  Of  course,  I  must  follow  Metaxa's  ex- 
ample by  sending  for  a  doctor. 

For  the  second  time  was  the  Admiral  punched 
and  tapped  and  listened  to.  This  time,  how- 
ever, there  could  be  no  question  of  the  qualifi- 
cations of  the  doctor,  a  well-known  Fellow  of 
the  College  of  Surgeons,  and  his  report  was  as 
favorable  as  the  other's  had  been  adverse. 

"He  has  the  heart  and  chest  of  a  man  of 
forty,"  said  he.  "I  can  recommend  his  life  as 
one  of  the  best  of  his  age  that  I  have  ever 
examined. " 

"That's  well,"  said  Mr.  McAdam,  making  a 
note  of  the  doctor's  remarks,  v/hile  the  Admiral 
disbursed  a  second  guinea.  "Your  price,  I  un- 
derstand, is  five  thousand  pounds.  I  can  com- 
municate with  Mr.  Elberr\%  my  client,  and  let 
you  know  whether  he  cares  to  touch  the  mattfe^-. 
Meanwhile  you  can  leave  your  pension  papcj 
here,  and  I  will  give  you   a  receipt  for  them 

"Very  well.      I  should  like  the    money  soon. " 

"That  is  why  I  am  retaining  the  papers.      If 


SL YOND  ThB  UlY  1  '*  1> 

I  can  see  Mr.  Elberry  to-day  we  may  let  you 
have  a  cheque  to-morrow.  Try  another  pinch. 
No?  Well,  good-bye.  I  am  very  happy  to 
have  been  of  service."  Mr.  McAdam  bowed 
them  out,  for  he  was  a  very  busy  man,  and 
they  found  themselves  in  the  street  once  more 
with  lighter  hearts  than  when  they  had  left  it. 

"Well,  Westmacott,  I  am  sure  I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you,"  said  the  Admiral.  "You 
have  stood  by  me  when  I  was  the  better  for 
a  xittle  help,  for  I'm  clean  out  of  my  soundings 
among  these  city  sharks.  But  I've  something 
to  do  now  which  is  more  in  my  own  line,  and 
I  need  not  trouble  you  any  more. " 

"Oh,  it  is  no  trouble.  I  have  nothing  to  do. 
I  never  have  anything  to  do.  I  don't  suppose 
I  could  do  it  if  I  had.  I  should  be  delighted 
to  come  with  you,  sir,  if  I  can  be  of  any  use." 

"No,  no,  my  lad.  You  go  home  again.  It 
would  be  kind  of  you,  though,  if  you  would 
look  in  at  number  one  when  you  get  back  and 
tell  my  wife  that  all's  well  "with  me,  and  that 
I'll  be  back  in  an  hour  or  so." 

"All  right,  sir.  I'll  tell  her."  Westmacott 
raised  his  hat  and  strode  away  to  the  west- 
ward, while  the  Admiral,  after  a  hurried  lunch, 
bent  his  steps  towards  the  east. 

It  was  a  long  walk,  but  the  old  seaman  swung 
along  at  a  rousing  pace,  leaving  street  after 
street  behind  him.      The   great  business  places 


150  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

dwindled  down  into  commonplace  shops  and 
dwellings,  which  decreased  and  became  more 
stunted,  even  as  the  folk  who  filled  them  did, 
until  he  was  deep  in  the  evil  places  of  the  east- 
ern end.  It  was  a  land  of  huge,  dark  houses 
and  of  garish  gin-shops,  a  land,  too,  where 
life  moves  irregularly  and  where  adventures  are 
to  be  gained— as  the  Admiral  was  to  learn  to 
his  cost. 

He  was  hurrying  down  one  of  the  long,  nar- 
row, stone-flagged  lanes  between  the  double  lines 
of  crouching,  disheveled  women  and  of  dirty 
children  who  sat  on  the  hollowed  steps  of  the 
houses,  and  basked  in  the  autumn  sun.  At 
one  side  was  a  barrowman  with  a  load  of  wal- 
nuts, and  beside  the  barrow  a  bedraggled  wo- 
man with  a  black  fringe  and  a  chequered  shawl 
thrown  over  her  head.  She  was  cracking  wal- 
nuts and  picking  them  out  of  the  shells,  throw- 
ing out  a  remark  occasionally  to  a  rough  man  in 
a  rabbit-skin  cap,  with  straps  under  the  knees 
of  his  corduroy  trousers,  who  stood  puffing  a 
black  clay  pipe  with  his  back  against  the  wall. 
What  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  was,  or  what 
sharp  sarcasm  from  the  woman's  lips  pricked 
suddenly  through  that  thick  skin  may  never  be 
known,  but  suddenly  the  man  took  his  pipe  in 
his  left  hand,  leaned  forward,  and  deliberately 
struck  her  across  the  face  with  his  right.  It 
was  a  slap  rather    than  a  blow,  but  the  woman 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  151 

gave  a  sharp  cry    and    cowered  up   against  the 
barrow  with  her  hand  to  her  cheek. 

"You  infernal    villain!"  cried    the    Admiral, 
raising  his  stick.    "You  brute  and  blackguard!" 

"Garn!"  growled    the  rough,  with    the    deep 
rasping  intonation  of  a  savage.     "Garn    out  o' 

this  or  I'll "      He  took  a  step  forward  with 

uplifted  hand,  but  in  an  instant  down  came  cut 
number  three  upon  his  wrist,  and  cut  number 
five  across  his  thigh,  and  cut  number  one  full 
in  the  center  of  his  rabbit-skin  cap.  It  was 
not  a  heavy  stick,  but  it  was  strong  enough  to 
leave  a  good  red  weal  wherever  it  fell.  The 
rough  yelled  with  pain,  and  lushed  in,  hitting 
with  both  hands,  and  kicking  with  his  iron- 
shod  boots,  but  the  Admiral  had  still  a  quick 
foot  and  a  true  eye,  so  that  he  bounded  back- 
wards and  sideways,  still  raining  a  shower  of 
blows  upon  his  savage  antagonist.  Suddenly, 
however,  a  pair  of  arms  closed  round  his  neck, 
and  glancing  backwards  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  black  coarse  fringe  of  the  woman  whom 
he  had  befriended.  "Pve  got  him ! "  she  shrieked. 
"I'll  'old  'im.  Now,  Bill,  knock  the  tripe  out 
of  him!"  Her  grip  was  as  strong  as  a  man's, 
and  her  wrist  pressed  like  an  iron  bar  upon  the 
Admiral's  throat  He  made  a  desperate  effort 
to. disengage  himself,  but  the  most  that  he 
could  do  was  to  swing  her  round,  so  as  to  place 
her  between  his  adversary  and  himself.      As  it 


152  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

proved,  it  was  the  very  best  thing  that  he  could 
have  done.  The  rough,  half- blinded  and  mad- 
dened by  the  blows  which  he  had  received,  struck 
out  with  all  his  ungainly  strength,  just  as  his 
partner's  head  swung  round  in  front  of  him. 
There  was  a  noise  like  that  of  a  stone  hitting 
a  wall,  a  deep  groan,  her  grasp  relaxed,  and 
she  dropped  a  dead  weight  upon  the  pavement, 
while  the  Admiral  sprang  back  and  raised  his 
stick  once  more,  ready  either  for  attack  or  de- 
fense. Neither  were  needed,  however,  for  at 
that  moment  there  was  a  scattering  of  the 
crowd,  and  two  police  constables,  burly  and 
helmeted,  pushed  their  way  through  the  rabble. 
At  the  sight  of  them  the  rough  took  to  his 
heels,  and  was  instantly  screened  from  view  by 
a  veil  of  his  friends  and  neighbors. 

'T  have  been  assaulted,"  panted  the  Admi- 
ral. "This  woman  was  attacked  and  I  had  to 
defend  her. " 

"This  is  Bermondsey  Sal,"  said  one  police 
officer,  bending  over  the  bedraggled  heap  of 
tattered  shawl  and  dirty  skirt.  "She's  got  it 
hot  this  time." 

"He  was  a  shortish  man, thick,  with  a  beard." 

"Ah,  that's  Black  Davie.  He's  been  up 
four  times  for  beating  her.  He's  about  done 
the  job  now.  If  I  were  you  I  would  let  that 
sort  settle  their  own  little  affairs,  sir." 

"Do  you  think    that  a  man  who    holds    the 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  153 

Queen's  commission  will    stand  by  and    see  a 
woman  struck?"  cried  the  Admiral  indignantly. 

"Well,  just  as  you  like,  sir.  But  you've  lost 
your  watch,  I  see. " 

"My  watch!"  He  clapped  his  hand  to  his 
waistcoat.  The  chain  was  hanging  down  in 
front,  and  the  watch  gone. 

He  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead.  "I 
would  not  have  lost  that  watch  for  anything," 
said  he.  "No  money  could  replace  it.  It  was 
given  me  by  the  ship's  company  after  our  Afri- 
can croiise.      It  has  an  inscription." 

The  policeman  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "It 
comes  from  meddling,"  said  he. 

"What' 11  you  give  me  if  I  tell  yer  where  it 
is?"  said  a  sharp-faced  boy  among  the  crowd. 
"Will  you  gimme  a  quid?" 

"Certainly. " 

"Well,  Where's  the  quid?" 

The  Admiral  took  a  sovereign  from  his 
pocket.      "Here  it  is." 

"Then  'ere's  the  ticker!"  The  boy  pointed 
to  the  clenched  hand  of  the  senseless  woman. 
A  glimmer  of  gold  shone  out  from  between  the 
fingers,  and  on  opening  them  up,  there  was  the 
Admiral's  chronometer.  This  interesting  vic- 
tim had  throttled  her  protector  with  one  hand, 
while  she  had  robbed  him  with  the  other. 

The  Admiral  left  his  address  with  the  police- 
man, satisfied  that  the  woman  was  only  stunned, 


154  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

not  dead,  and  then  set  off  upon  his  way  once 
more,  the  poorer  perhaps  in  his  faith  in  human 
nature,  but  in  very  good  spirits  none  the  less. 
He  walked  with  dilated  nostrils  and  clenched 
hands,  all  glowing  and  tingling  with  the  ex- 
citement of  the  combat,  and  warmed  with  the 
thought  that  he  could  still,  when  there  was 
need,  take  his  own  part  in  a  street  brawl  in 
spite  of  his  three-score  and  odd  years. 

His  way  now  led  towards  the  river-side  re- 
gions, and  a  cleansing  whiff  of  tar  was  to  be 
detected  in  the  stagnant  autumn  air.  Men  with 
the  blue  jersey  and  peaked  cap  of  the  boat- 
man, or  the  white  ducks  of  the  dockers,  began 
to  replace  the  cordurys  and  fustian  of  the  la- 
borers. Shops  with  nautical  instruments  in 
the  windows,  rope  and  paint  sellers,  and  slop 
shops  with  long  rows  of  oilskins  dangling  from 
hooks,  all  proclaimed  the  neighborhood  of  the 
docks.  The  Admiral  quickened  his  pace  and 
straightened  his  figure  as  his  surroundings  be- 
came more  nautical,  until  at  last,  peeping  be- 
tween two  high,  dingy  wharfs,  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  mud-colored  waters  of  the 
Thames,  and  of  the  bristle  of  masts  and  funnels 
which  rose  from  its  broad  bosom.  To  the  right 
lay  a  quiet  street,  with  many  brass  plates  upon 
either  side,  and  wire  blinds  in  all  of  the  win- 
dows. The  Admiral  walked  slowly  down  it 
until  "The  Saint  Lawrence  Shipping  Company" 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  155 

caught  his  eye.  He  crossed  the  road>  pushed 
open  the  door,  and  found  himself  in  a  low- 
ceilinged  office,  with  a  long  counter  at  one 
end  and  a  great  number  of  wooden  sections  of 
ships  stuck  upon  boards  and  plastered  all  over 
the  walls. 

"Is  Mr.  Henry  in?"  asked  the  Admiral. 

"No,  sir,"  answered  an  elderly  man  from  a 
high  seat  in  the  corner.  "He  has  not  come  into 
town  to-day.  I  can  manage  any  business  you 
may  wish  seen  to. " 

"You  don't  happen  to  have  a  first  or  second 
officer's  place  vacant,  do  you?" 

The  manager  looked  with  a  dubious  eye  at 
his  singular  applicant. 

"Do  you  hold  certificates?"  he  asked. 

"I  hold  every  nautical  certificate  there  is." 

"Then  you  won't  do  for  us." 

"Why  not?" 

"Your  age,  sir." 

"I  give  you  my  word  that  I  can  see  as  well 
as  ever,  and  am  as  good  a  man  in  every  way." 

"I  don't  doubt  it." 

"Why  should  my  age  be  a  bar,  then?" 

"Well,  I  must  put  it  plainly.  If  a  man  of 
your  age,  holding  certificates,  has  not  got  past 
a  second  officer's  berth,  there  must  be  a  black 
mark  against  him  somewhere.  I  don't  know 
what  it  is,  drink  or  temper,  or  want  of  judg- 
ment, but  something  there  must  be." 


15G  BEYOND  ThL.  -.,  .  . 

"I  assure  you  there  is  nothing,  but  I  find 
myself  stranded,  and  so  have  to  turn  to  the  old 
business  again." 

"Oh,  that's  it,"  said  the  manager,  with  sus- 
picion in  his  eye.  "How  long  were  you  in  your 
last  billet?" 

"Fifty-one  years." 

"What!" 

"Yes,  sir,     one-and-fifty  years.*' 

"In  the  same  employ?" 

"Yes." 

"Why,  you  must  have  begun  as  a  child." 

"I  was  twelve  when  I  joined." 

"It  must  be  a  strangely  managed  business," 
said  the  manager,  "which  allows  men  to  leave 
it  who  have  served  for  fifty  years,  and  who  are 
still  as  good  as  ever.     Who  did  you  serve?" 

"The Queen.      Heaven  bless  her!" 

"Oh,  you  were  in  the  Royal  Navy.  What 
rating  did  you  hold?" 

"I  am  Admiral  of  the  Fleet. " 

The  manager  started,  and  sprang  down  from 
his  high  stool. 

"My  name  is  Admiral  Hay  Denver.  There 
is  my  card.  And  here  are  the  records  of  my 
service.  I  don't,  you  understand,  want  to  push 
another  man  from  his  billet;  but  if  you  should 
chance  to  have  a  berth  open,  I  should  be  very 
glad  of  it.  I  know  the  navigation  from  the 
Cod  Banks  right  up  to  Montreal  a  great  deal 
better  than  I  know  the  streets  of  London.  '* 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  157 

The  astonished  manager  glanced  over  the 
blue  papers  which  his  visitor  had  handed  him. 
"Won't  you  take  a  chair,    Admiral?"  said    he. 

"Thank  you!  But  I  should  be  obliged  if  you 
would  drop  my  title  now.  I  told  you  because 
you  asked  me,  but  I've  left  the  quarter-deck, 
and  I  am  plain  Mr.  Hay  Denver  now." 

"May  I  ask,"  said  the  manager,  "are  you  the 
same  Denver  who  commanded  at  one  time  on 
the  North  American  station?" 

"I  did." 

"Then  it  was  you  who  got  one  of  our  boats, 
the  Comus,  off  the  rocks  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy? 
The  directors  voted  you  three  hundred  guineas 
as  salvage,  and  you  refused,  them. " 

"It  was  an  offer  which  should  not  have  been 
made,"  said  the  Admiral  sternly. 

"Well,  it  reflects  credit  upon  you  that  you 
should  think  so.  If  Mr.  Henry  were  here  I  am 
sure  that  he  would  arrange  this  matter  for  you 
at  once.  As  it  is,  I  shall  lay  it  before  the  di- 
rectors to-day,  and  1  am  sure  that  they  will  be 
proud  to  have  you  in  our  employment,  and,  I 
hope,  in  some  more  suitable  position  than 
that  which  you  suggest." 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,"  said 
the  Admiral,  and  started  off  again,  well  pleased, 
upon  his  homeward  journey. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

STILL  AMONG   SHOALS. 

Next  day  brought  the  Admiral  a  cheque  for 
^5,000  from  Mr.  McAdam,  and  a  stamped 
agreement  by  which  he  made  over  his  pension 
papers  to  the  speculative  inventor.  It  was  not 
until  he  had  signed  and  sent  it  off  that  the  full 
significance  of  all  that  he  had  done  broke  upon 
him.  He  had  sacrificed  everything.  His  pen- 
sion was  gone.  He  had  nothing  save  only 
what  he  could  earn.  But  the  stout  old  heart 
never  quailed.  He  waited  eagerly  for  a  letter 
from  the  Saint  Lawrence  Shipping  Company, 
and  in  the  meanwhile  he  gave  his  landlord  a 
quarter's  notice.  Hundred  pound  a  /ear  houses 
would  in  future  be  a  luxur^r  which  he  could 
not  aspire  to.  A  small  lodging  in  some  inex- 
pensive part  of  London  must  be  the  substitute 
for  his  breezy  Norwood  villa.  So  be  it,  then! 
Better  that  a  thousand  fold  than  that  his  name 
should  be  associated  with  failure  and  disgrace. 

On  that  morning  Harold  Denver  was  to  meet 
the  creditors  of  the  firm,  and  to  explain  the 
situation  to  them.  It  was  a  hateful  task,  a 
degrading  task,  but  he  set  himself  to  do  it  with 
quiet  resolution.  At  home  they  waited  in  in- 
tense anxiety  to  learn  the  result  of  the  meet- 
158 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  155 

ing.  It  was  late  before  he  returned,  haggard 
and  pale,  like  a  man  who  has  done  and  suffered 
much. 

"What's  this  board  in  front  of  the  house?" 
he  asked. 

"We  are  going  to  try  a  little  change  of 
scene,"  said  the  Admiral.  "This  place  is  neither 
town  nor  country  But  never  mind  that,  boy. 
Tell  us  what  happened  in  the  City." 

"God  help  me!  My  wretched  business  is 
driving  you  out  of  house  and  home!"  cried 
Harold,  broken  down  by  this  fresh  evidence  of 
the  effects  of  his  misfortunes.  "It  is  easier  for 
me  to  meet  my  creditors  than  to  see  you  two 
suffering  30  patiently  for  my  sake." 

"Tut,  tut!"  cried  the  Admiral.  "There's  na 
suffering  in  the  matter.  Mother  would  rather 
be  near  the  theaters.  That's  at  the  bottom 
of  it,  isn't  it,  mother?  You  come  and  sit  down 
here  between  us  and  tell  us  all  about  it." 

Harold  sat  down  with  a  loving  hand  in  each 
of  his. 

"It's  not  so  bad  as  we  thought,"  said  he, 
"and  yet  it  is  bad  enough.  I  have  about  ten 
days  to  find  the  money,  but  I  don't  know  which 
way  to  turn  for  it.  Pearson,  however,  lied, 
as  usual,  when  he  spoke  of  ;;^i3,ooo.  The 
amount  is  not  quite  ;^7,ooo." 

The  Admiral  clapped  his  hands.  "I  knew 
we  should  weather  it  after  all!  Hurrah,  my 
boy!     Hip,  hip,  hip,  hurrah!" 


160  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

Harold  gazed  at  him  in  surprise,  while  the 
old  seaman  waved  his  arm  above  his  head  and 
bellowed  out  three  stentorian  cheers.  "Where 
am  I  to  get  seven  thousand  pounds  from,  dad?" 
he  asked. 

"Never  mind.      You  spin  your  yarn." 

"Well,  they  were  very  good  and  very  kind, 
but  of  course  they  must  have  either  their  money 
or  their  money's  worth.  They  passed  a  vote 
of  sympathy  with  me,  and  agreed  to  wait  ten 
days  before  they  took  any  proceedings.  Three 
of  them,  whose  claim  came  to  ;£3,5oo,  told  me 
that  if  I  would  give  them  my  personal  I.O.U., 
and  pay  interest  at  the  rate  of  five  per  cent, 
their  amounts  might  stand  over  as  long  as  I 
wished.  That  would  be  a  charge  of  ^175  upon 
my  income,  but  with  economy  I  could  meet  it, 
and  it  diminishes  the  debt  by  one-half." 

Again  the  Admiral  burst  out  cheering. 

"There  remains,  therefore,  about  ;^3,2oo, 
which  has  to  be  found  within  ten  days.  No 
man  shall  lose  by  me.  I  gave  them  my  word 
in  the  room  that  if  I  worked  my  soul  out  of  my 
body  every  one  of  them  should  be  paid.  I  shall 
not  spend  a  penny  upon  myself  until  it  is  done. 
But  some  of  them  can't  wait.  They  are  poor 
men  themselves,  and  must  have  their  money. 
They  have  issued  a  warrant  for  Pearson's  ar- 
rest. But  they  think  that  he  has  got  away  to 
the  States." 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  161 

"These  men  sAal/  have  their  money,"  said 
the  Admiral. 

"Dad!" 

"Yes,  my  boy,  you  don't  know  the  resources 
of  the  family.  One  never  does  know  until  one 
tries.     What  have  you  yourself  now?" 

"I  have  about  a  thousand  pounds  invested." 

"All  right.  And  I  have  about  as  much 
more.  There's  a  good  start.  Now,  mother, it  is 
your  turn.  What  is  that  little  bit  of  paper  of 
yours?" 

Mrs.  Denver  unfolded  it,  and  placed  it  upon 
Harold's  knee. 

"Five  thousand  pounds!"  he  gasped. 

"Ah,  but  mother  is  not  the  only  rich  one. 
Look  at  this!"  And  the  Admiral  unfolded  his 
cheque,  and  placed  it  upon  the  other  knee. 

Harold  gazed  from  one  to  the  other  in  be- 
wilderment. "Ten  thousand  pounds!"  he  cried. 
"Good  heavens!  where  did  these  come  from?" 

"You  will  not  worry  any  longer,  dear,"  mur- 
mured his  mother,  slipping  her  arm  round  him. 

But  his  quick  eye  had  caught  the  signature 
upon  one  of  the  cheques.  "Doctor  Walker!"  he 
cried,  flushing.  "This  is  Clara's  doing.  Oh, 
dad,  we  cannot  take  this  money.  It  would  not 
be  right  nor  honorable. " 

"No,  boy,  I  am  glad  you  think  so.  It  is 
something,  however,  to  have  proved  one's 
friend,  for  a  real  good  friend  he  is.     It  was  he 


162  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

who  brought  it  in,  though  Clara  sent  him.  But 
this  other  money  will  be  enough  to  cover  every- 
thing, and  it  is  all  my  own. " 

"Your  own?     Where  did  you  get  it,  dad?" 

"Tut,  tut!  See  what  it  is  to  have  a  City  man 
to  deal  with.  It  is  my  own,  and  fairly  earned, 
and  that  is  enough. " 

"Dear  old  dad!"  Harold  squeezed  his  gnarled 
hand.  "And  you,  mother!  You  have  lifted 
the  trouble  from  my  heart.  I  feel  another  man. 
You  have  saved  my  honor,  my  good  name, 
everything.  I  cannot  owe  you  more,  for  I  owe 
you  everything  already." 

So  while  the  autumn  sunset  shone  ruddily 
through  the  broad  window  these  three  sat  to- 
gether hand  in  hand,  with  hearts  which  were 
too  full  to  speak.  Suddenly  the  soft  thudding 
of  tennis  balls  was  heard,  and  Mrs.  Westmacott 
bounded  into  view  upon  the  lawn  with  bran- 
dished racket  and  short  skirts  fluttering  in  the 
breeze.  The  sight  came  as  a  relief  to  their 
strained  nerves,  and  they  burst  all  three  into 
a  hsarty  fit  of  laughter. 

"She  is  playing  with  her  nephew,"  said  Har- 
old at  last.  "The  Walkers  have  not  come  out 
yet.  I  think  that  it  would  be  well  if  you  were 
to  give  me  that  cheque,  mother,  and  I  were  to 
return  it  in  person. " 

"Certainly,  Harold.  I  think  it  would  be  very 
nice. " 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  163 

He  went  in  through  the  garden.  Clara  and 
the  Doctor  were  sitting  together  in  the  dining- 
room.  She  sprang  to  her  feet  at  the  sight  of 
him. 

"Oh,  Harold,  I  have  been  waiting  for  you 
so  impatiently,"  she  cried;  "I  saw  you  pass 
the  front  windows  half  an  hour  ago.  I  would 
have  come  in  if  I  dared.  Dq  tell  us  what  has 
happened. " 

"I  have  come  in  to  thank  you  both.  How 
can  I  repay  you  for  your  kindness?  Here  is 
your  cheque.  Doctor.  I  have  not  needed  it.  I 
find  that  I  can  lay  my  hands  on  enough  to  pay 
my  creditors. " 

"Thank  God!"  said  Clara  fervently. 

"The  sum  is  less  than  I  thought,  and  our 
resources  considerably  more.  We  have  been 
able  to  do  it  with  ease." 

"With  ease!"  The  Doctor's  brow  clouded 
and  his  manner  grew  cold.  "I  think,  Harold, 
that  you  would  do  better  to  take  this  money  of 
mine,  than  to  use  that  which  seems  to  you  to 
be  gained  with  ease. " 

"Thank  you,  sir.  If  I  borrowed  from  any 
one  it  would  be  from  you.  But  my  father  has 
this  very  sum,  five  thousand  pounds,  and,  as  I 
tell  him,  I  owe  him  so  much  that  I  have  no 
compunction  about  owing  him  more." 

"No  compunction!  Surely  there  are  some 
sacrifices  which  a  son  should  not  allow  his 
parents  to  make." 


164  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

"Sacrifices!   What  do  you  mean?  " 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  do  not  know  how  this 
money  has  been  obtained?" 

"I  give  you  my  word,  Doctor  Walker,  that  I 
have  no  idea.  I  asked  my  father,  but  he  refused 
to  tell  me. " 

"1  thought  not,"  said  the  Doctor,  the  gloom 
clearing  from  his  brow.  "I  was  sure  that  you 
were  not  a  man  who,  to  clear  yourself  from  a 
little  money  difficulty,  v/ould  sacrifice  the  hap- 
piness of  your  mother  and  the  health  of  your 
father. " 

"Good  gracious!   what  do  you  mean?** 

"It  is  only  right  that  you  should  know.  That 
money  represents  the  commutation  of  your 
father's  pension.  He  has  reduced  himself  to 
poverty,  and  intends  to  go  to  sea  again  to 
earn  a  living." 

"To  sea  again!      Impossible!" 

"It  is  the  truth.  Charles  Westmacott  has 
told  Ida.  He  was  with  him  in  the  City  when 
he  took  his  poor  pension  about  from  dealer  to 
dealer  trying  to  sell  it.  He  succeeded  at  last, 
and  hence  the  money." 

"He  has  sold  his  pension!"  cried  Harold, 
with  his  hands  to  his  face.  "My  dear  old  dad 
has  sold  his  pension!"  He  rushed  from  the 
room,  and  burst  wuldly  into  the  presence  of  his 
parents  once  more.  "I  cannot  take  it,  father," 
he  cried.      "Better  bankruptcy  than  that.      Oh, 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  165 

if  I  had  only  known  your  plan!  We  must  have 
back  the  pension.  Oh,  mother,  mother,  how 
could  you  think  me  capable  of  such  selfishness? 
Give  me  the  cheque,  dad,  and  I  will  see  this 
man  to-night,  for  I  would  sooner  die  like  a  dog 
in  the  ditch  than  touch  a  penny  of  this  money. " 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

A  MIDNIGHT  VISITOR. 

Now  all  this  time,  while  the  tragi-comedy  of 
life  was  being  played  in  these  three  suburban 
villas,  while  on  a  commonplace  stage  love  and 
humor  and  fears  and  lights  and  shadows  were 
so  swiftly  succeeding  each  other,  and  while 
these  three  families,  drifted  together  by  fate, 
were  shaping  each  other's  destinies  and  work- 
ing out  in  their  own  fashion  the  strange,  intri- 
cate ends  of  human  life,  there  were  human 
eyes  which  watched  over  every  stage  of  the  per- 
formance, and  which  were  keenly  critical  of 
every  actor  on  it.  Across  the  road  beyond  the 
green  palings  and  the  close-cropped  lawn,  be- 
hind the  curtains  of  their  creeper-framed  win- 
dows, sat  the  two  old  ladies,  Miss  Bertha  and 
Miss  Monica  Williams,  looking  out  as  from  a 
private  box  at  all  that  was  being    enacted    be- 


166  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

fore  them.  The  growing  friendship  of  the  three 
families,  the  engagement  of  Harold  Denver 
with  Clara  Walker,  the  engagement  of  Charles 
Westmacott  with  her  sister,  the  dangerous  fas- 
cination which  the  widow  exercised  over  the 
Doctor,  the  preposterous  behavior  of  the 
Walker  girls  and  the  unhappiness  which  they 
had  caused  their  father,  not  one  of  these  inci- 
dents escaped  the  notice  of  the  two  maiden 
ladies.  Bertha  the  younger  had  a  smile  or  a 
sigh  for  the  lovers,  Monica  the  elder  a  frown 
or  a  shrug  for  the  elders.  Every  night  they 
talked  over  what  they  had  seen,  and  their  own 
dull,  uneventful  life  took  a  warmth  and  a  color- 
ing from  their  neighbors  as  a  blank  wall  reflects 
a  beacon  fire. 

And  now  it  was  destined  that  they  should 
experience  the  one  keen  sensation  of  their  later 
years,  the  one  memorable  incident  from  which 
all  future  incidents  should  be  dated. 

It  was  on  the  very  night  which  succeeded 
the  events  which  have  just  been  narrated, when 
suddenly  into  Monica  William's  head,  as  she 
tossed  upon  her  sleepless  bed,  there  shot  a 
thought  which  made  her  sit  up  with  a  thrill 
and  a  gasp. 

"Bertha,"  said  she,  plucking  at  the  shoulder 
of  her  sister,  "I  have  left  the  front  window 
open. " 

"No,  Monica,  surely  not."  Bertha  sat  up 
also,   and  thrilled  in  sympathy. 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  167 

"I  am  sure  of  it.  You  remember  I  had  for- 
gotten to  water  the  pots,  and  then  I  opened  the 
window,  and  Jane  called  me  about  the  jam, 
and  I  have  never  been  in  the  room  since. " 

"Good  gracious,  Monica,  it  is  a  mercy  that 
we  have  not  been  murdered  in  our  beds.  There 
was  a  house  broken  into  at  Forest  Hill  last 
week.     Shall  we  go  down  and  shut  it?" 

"I  dare  not  go  down  alone,  dear,  but  if  you 
will  come  with  me.  Put  on  your  slippers  and 
dressing-gown.  We  do  not  need  a  candle. 
Now,  Bertha,  we  will  go  down  together. " 

Two  little  white  patches  moved  vaguely 
through  the  darkness,  the  stairs  creaked,  the 
door  whined,  and  they  were  at  the  front  room 
window.  Monica  closed  it  gently  down,  and 
fastened  the  snib. 

"What  a  beautiful  moon!"  said  she,  looking 
out.  "We  can  see  as  clearly  as  if  it  were  day. 
How  peaceful  and  quiet  the  three  houses  are 
over  yonder!  It  seems  quite  sad  to  see  that 
*To  Let'  card  upon  number  one.  I  wonder 
how  number  two  will  like  their  going.  For  my 
part  I  could  better  spare  that  dreadful  woman 
at  number  three  with  her  short  skirts  and  her 
snake.  But,  oh,  Bertha,  look!  look!!  look!!!" 
Her  voice  had  fallen  suddenly  to  a  quivering 
whisper  and  she  was  pointing  to  the  Westma- 
cotts'  house.  Her  sister  gave  a  gasp  of  horror, 
and  stood  with  a  clutch  at  Monica's  arm,  star- 
ing in  the  same  direction. 


168  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

There  was  a  light  in  the  front  room,a  slight, 
wavering  light  such  as  would  be  given  by  a 
small  candle  or  taper.  The  blind  was  down, 
but  the  light  shone  dimly  through.  Outside 
in  the  garden,  with  his  figure  outlined  against 
the  luminous  square,  there  stood  a  man,  his 
back  to  the  road,  his  two  hands  upon  the  win- 
dow ledge,  and  his  body  rather  bent  as  though 
he  were  trying  to  peep  in  past  the  blind.  So 
absolutely  still  and  motionless  was  he  that  in 
spite  of  the  moon  they  might  well  have  over- 
looked him  were  it  not  for  that  tell-tale  light 
behind. 

"Good  heaven!"  gasped  Bertha,  "it  is  a  bur- 
glar." 

But  her  sister  set  her  mouth  grimly  and 
shook  her  head.  "We  shall  see,"  she  whis- 
pered.     "It  may  be  something  worse." 

Swiftly  and  furtively  the  man  stood  suddenly 
erect,  and  began  to  push  the  window  slowly 
up.  Then  he  put  one  knee  upon  the  sash, 
glanced  round  to  see  that  all  was  safe,  and 
climbed  over  into  the  room.  As  he  did  so  he 
had  to  push  the  blind  aside.  Then  the  two 
spectators  saw  where  the  light  came  from.  Mrs. 
Westmacott  was  standing,  as  rigid  as  a  statue, 
in  the  center  of  the  room,  with  a  lighted  taper 
in  her  right  hand.  For  an  instant  they  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her  stern  face  and  her  white  col- 
lar.    Then  the   blind  fell    back  into    position, 


atYOND  THE  CITY  169 

and  the  two    figures    disappeared    from    th^ir 
view. 

"Oh,  that  dreadful  woman!"  cried  Monica. 
"That  dreadful,  dreadful  woman!  She  was 
waiting  for  him.  You  saw  it  with  your  own 
eyes,  sister  Bertha!" 

"Hush,  dear,  hush  and  listen!"  said  her  more 
charitable  companion.  They  pushed  their  own 
window  up  once  more,  and  watched  from  behind 
the  curtains. 

For  a  long  time  all  was  silpnt  within  the 
house.  The  light  still  stood  motionless  as 
though  Mrs.  Westmacott  remained  rigidly  in 
the  one  position,  while  from  time  to  time  a 
shadow  passed  in  front  of  it  to  show  that  her 
midnight  visitor  was  pacing  up  and  down  in 
front  of  her.  Once  they  saw  his  outline  clearly, 
with  his  hands  outstretched  as  if  in  appeal  or 
entreaty.  Then  suddenly  there  was  a  dull 
sound,  a  cry,  the  noise  of  a  fall,  the  taper  was 
extinguished,  and  a  dark  figure  fled  in  the 
moonlight,  rushed  across  the  garden,  and  van- 
ished amid  the  shrubs  at  the  farther  side. 

Then  only  did  the  two  old  ladies  understand 
that  they  had  looked  on  whilst  a  tragedy  had 
been  enacted.  "Help!"  they  cried,  and  "Help!" 
in  their  high,  thin  voices,  timidly  at  first,  but 
gathering  volume  as  they  went  on,  until  the 
Wilderness  rang  with  their  shrieks.  Lights 
shone  in  all  the  windows  opposite,  chains  rat- 


170  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

tied,  bars  were  unshot,  doors  opened,  and  out 
rushed  friends  to  the  rescue.  Harold,  with  a 
stick;  the  Admiral,  with  his  sword,  his  grey 
head  and  bare  feet  protruding  from  either  end 
of  a  long  brown  ulster';  finally.  Doctor  Walker, 
with  a  poker,  all  ran  to  the  help  of  the  West- 
macotts.  Their  door  had  been  already  opened, 
and  they  crowded  tumultuously  into  the  front 
room. 

Charles  Westmacott,  white  to  his  lips,  was 
kneeling  on  the  floor,  supporting  his  aunt's 
head  upon  his  knee.  She  lay  outstretched, 
dressed  in  her  ordinary  clothes,  the  extinguished 
taper  still  grasped  in  her  hand,  no  mark  or 
wound  upon  her — pale,  placid,   and    senseless. 

"Thank  God  you  are  come,  Doctor,"  said 
Charles,  looking  up.  "Do  tell  me  how  she  is, 
and  what  I  should  do." 

Doctor  Walker  kneeled  beside  her,  and 
passed  his  left  hand  over  her  head,  while  he 
grasped  her  pulse  with  the  right. 

"She  has  had  a  terrible  blow,"  said  he.  "It 
must  have  been  with  some  blunt  weapon.  Here 
is  the  place  behind  the  ear.  But  she  is  a  wom- 
an of  extraordinary  p^.ysical  powers.  Her  pulse 
is  full  and  slow.  There  is  no  stertor.  It  is  my 
belief  that  she  is  merely  stunned,  and  that  she 
is  in  no  danger  at  all."    • 

"Thank  God  for  thatl" 

"We  must  get  her   to  bed.     We    shall  carry 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  171 

her  upstairs,  and  then  I  shall  send  my  girls  in 
to  her.     But  who  has  done  this?" 

"Some  robber"  said  Charles.      "You  see  that 
the  window  is  open.   She  must  have  heard  him 
and   come  down,  for  she   was  always  perfectly 
fearless.   I  wish  to  goodness  she  had  called  me. " 
"But  she  was  dressed." 
"Sometimes  she  sits  up  very  late. " 
"I  did  sit  up  very  late,"  said    a  voice.      She 
had  opened  her  eyes,  and  was  blinking  at  them 
in  the  lamplight.      "A  villain  came   in  through 
the  window  and  struck  me  with  a  life-preserver. 
You  can   tell  the    police  so    when    they    come. 
Also  that  it  was  a  little  fat  man.   Now,  Charles, 
give  me  your  arm  and  I  shall  go  upstairs." 

But  her  spirit  was  greater  than  her  strength, 
for,  as  she  staggered  to  her  feet,  her  head  swam 
round,  and  she  would  have  fallen  again  had  her 
nephew  not  thrown  his  arms  round  her.  They 
carried  her  upstairs  among  them  and  laid  her 
upon  the  bed,  where  the  Doctor  watched  be- 
side her,  while  Charles  went  off  to  the  police- 
station,  and  the  Denvers  mounted  guard  over 
the  frightened  maids. 


CHAPTER  XVll. 

IN  PORT  AT  LAST. 

Day  had  broken  before  the  several  denizens  of 
the  Wilderness  had  all  returned  to  their  homes, 
the  police  finished  their  inquiries,  and  all  come 
back  to  its  normal  quiet.  Mrs.  Westmacott 
had  been  left  sleeping  peacefully  with  a  small 
chloral  draught  to  steady  her  nerves  and  a  hand- 
kerchief soaked  in  arnica  bound  round  her  head. 
It  was  with  some  surprise,  therefore,  that  the 
Admiral  received  a  note  from  her  about  ten 
o'clock,  asking  him  to  be  good  enough  to  step 
in  to  her.  He  hurried  in,  fearing  that  she  might 
have  taken  some  turn  for  the  worse,  but  he  was 
reassured  to  find  her  sitting  up  in.  her  bed, 
with  Clara  and  Ida  Walker  in  attendance  upon 
her.  She  had  removed  the  handkerchief,  and 
had  put  on  a  little  cap  with  pink  ribbons,  and 
a  maroon  dressing-jacket,  daintily  fulled  at  the 
neck  and  sleeves. 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  she  as  he  entered,  "I 
wish  to  make  a  last  few  remarks  to  you.  No, 
no,"  she  continued, laughing,  as  she  saw  a  look 
of  dismay  upon  his  face.  "I  shall  not  dream 
of  dying  for  at  least  another  thirty  years.  A 
woman  should  be  ashamed  to  die  before  she  is 
seventy.  I  wish,  Clara,  that  you  would  ask 
173 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  173 

your  father  to  step  up.  And  you,  Ida,  just  pass 
me  my  cigarettes,  and  open  me  a  bottle  of 
stout. " 

"Now  then,"  she  continued,  as  the  doctor 
joined  their  party.  "I  don't  quite  know  what 
I  ought  to  say  to  you.  Admiral.  You  want  some 
very  plain  speaking  to." 

'"Pon  my  word,  ma'am,  I  don't  know  what 
you  are  talking  about." 

"The  idea  of  you  at  your  age  talking  of  going 
to  sea,  and  leaving  that  dear,  patient  little  wife 
of  yours  at  home,  who  has  seen  nothing  of  you 
all  her  life!  It's  all  very  well  for  you.  You 
have  the  life,  and  the  change,  and  the  excite- 
ment, but  you  don't  think  of  her  eating  her 
heart  out  in  a  dreary  London  lodging.  You 
men  are  all  the  same." 

"Well,  ma'am,  since  you  know  so  much,  you 
probably  know  also  that  I  have  sold  my  pen- 
sion. How  am  I  to  live  if  I  do  not  turn  my 
hand  to  work?" 

Mrs.  Westmacott  produced  a  large  registered 
envelope  from  beneath  the  sheets  and  tossed  it 
over  to  the  old  seaman. 

"That  excuse  won't  do.  There  are  your  pen- 
sion papers.    Just  see  if  they  are  right." 

He  broke  the  seal,  and  out  tumbled  the  very 
papers  which  he  had  made  over  to  McAdam 
two  days  before. 

"But  what  am  I  to  do  with  these  now?"  he 
cried  in  bewilderment. 


174  BEYOND  THB  CITY 

"You  will  put  them  in  a  safe  place,  or  get  a 
friend  to  do  so,  and,  if  you  do  your  duty,  you 
will  go  to  your  wife  and  beg  her  pardon  for 
having  even  for  an  instant  thought  of  Icavinpc 
her. " 

The  Admiral  passed  his  hand  over  his  rugged 
forehead.  "This  is  very  good  of  you,  ma'am" 
said  he,  "very  good  and  kind,  and  I  know  that 
you  are  a  staunch  friend,  but  for  all  that  these 
papers  mean  money,  and  though  we  may  have 
been  in  broken  water  lately,  we  are  not  quite 
in  such  straits  as  to  have  to  signal  to  our 
friends.  When  we  do,  ma'am,  there's  no  one 
we  would  look  to  sooner  than  to  you." 

"Don't  be  ridiculous!"  said  the  widow. 
"You  know  nothing  whatever  about  it,  and  yet 
you  stand  there  laying  down  the  law.  I'll  have 
my  way  in  the  matter,  and  you  shall  take  the 
papers,  for  it  is  no  favor  that  I  am  doing  you, 
but  simply  a  restoration  of  stolen  property." 

"How  that,  ma'am?" 

"I  am  just  going  to  explain,  though  you 
might  take  a  lady's  word  for  it  without  asking 
any  questions.  Now,  what  I  am  going  to  say 
is  just  between  you  four,  and  must  go  no  farther. 
I  have  my  own  reasons  for  wishing  to  keep  it 
from  the  police.  Who  do  you  think  it  was  who 
struck  me  last  night.  Admiral?" 

"Some  villain,  ma'am.  I  don't  know  his 
name. " 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  175 

"But  I  do.  It  was  the  same  man  who  ruined 
or  tried  to  ruin  your  son.  It  was  my  only 
brother,  Jeremiah." 

"Ah!" 

"I  will  tell  you  about  him — or  a  little  about 
him,  for  he  has  done  much  which  I  would  not 
care  to  talk  of,  nor  you  to  listen  to.  He  was 
always  a'  villain,  smooth-spoken  and  plausible, 
but  a  dangerous,  subtle  villain  all  the  same. 
If  I  have  some  hard  thoughts  about  mankind 
I  can  trace  them  back  to  the  childhood  which 
I  spent  with  my  brother.  He  is  my  only  living 
relative,  for  my  other  brother,  Charles's  father, 
was  killed  in  the  Indian  mutiny. 

"Our  father  was  rich,  and  when  he  died  he 
made  a  good  provision  both  for  Jeremiah  and 
for  me.  He  knew  Jeremiah  and  he  mistrusted 
him,  however;  so  instead  of  giving  him  all 
that  he  meant  him  to  have  he  handed  me  over 
a  part  of  it,  telling  me,  with  what  was  almost 
his  dying  breath,  to  hold  it  in  trust  for  my 
brother,  and  to  use  it  in  his  behalf  when  ht 
should  have  squandered  or  lost  all  that  he  had. 
This  arrangement  was  meant  to  be  a  secret  be- 
tween my  father  and  myself,  but  unfortunately 
his  words  were  overheard  by  the  nurse,  and 
she  repeated  them  afterwards  to  my  brother, 
so  that  he  came  to  know  that  I  held  some 
money  in  trust  for  him.  I  suppose  tobacco 
will  not  harm  my  head,    Doctor?     Thank  you. 


176  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

then  I  shall  trouble  you  for  the  matches,  Ida.** 
She  lit  a  cigarette,  and  leaned  back  upon  the 
pillow,  with  the  blue  wreaths  curling  from  her 
lips. 

"I  cannot  tell  you  how  often  he  has  attempted 
to  get  that  money  from  me.  He  has  bullied, 
cajoled,  threatened,  coaxed,  done  all  that  a 
man  could  do.  I  still  held  it  with  the  presenti- 
ment that  a  need  for  it  would  come.  When  I 
heard  of  this  villainous  business,  his  flight,  and 
his  leaving  his  partner  to  face  the  storm,  above 
all  that  my  old  friend  had  been  driven  to  sur- 
render his  income  in  order  to  make  up  for  my 
brother's  defalcations,  I  felt  that  now  indeed 
I  had  a  need  for  it.  I  sent  in  Charles  yester- 
day to  Mr.  McAdam,  and  his  client,  upon 
hearing  the  facts  of  the  case,  very  graciously 
consented  to  give  back  the  papers,  and  to  take 
the  money  which  he  had  advanced.  Not  a 
word  of  thanks  to  me,  Admiral.  I  tell  you 
that  it  was  very  cheap  benevolence,  for  it  was 
all  done  with  his  own  money,  and  how  could  I 
use  it  better? 

"I  thought  that  I  should  probably  hear  from 
him  soon,  and  I  did.  Last  evening  there  was 
handed  in  a  note  of  the  usual  whining,  cringing 
tone.  He  had  come  back  from  abroad  at  the 
risk  of  his  life  and  liberty,  just  in  order  that 
he  might  say  good-bye  to  the  only  sister  he  ever 
had,  and    to   entreat    my   forgiveness    for    any 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  177 

pain  which  he  had  caused  me.  He  would  never 
trouble  me  again,  and  he  begged  only  that  I 
would  hand  over  to  him  the  sum  which  I  held 
in  trust  for  him.  That,  with  what  he  had  al- 
ready, would  be  enough  to  start  him  as  an 
honest  man  in  the  new  world,  when  he  would 
ever  remember  and  pray  for  the  dear  sister  who 
had  been  his  savior.  That  was  the  style  of  the 
letter,  and  it  ended  by  imploring  me  to  leave 
the  window-latch  open,  and  to  be  in  the  front 
room  at  three  in  the  morning,  when  he  would 
come  to  receive  my  last  kiss  and  to  bid  me 
farewell. 

"Bad  as  he  was,  I  could  not,  when  he  trusted 
me,  betray  him.  I  said  nothing,  but  I  was  there 
at  the  hour.  He  entered  through  the  window, 
and  implored  me  to  give  him  the  money.  He 
was  terribly  changed;  gaunt,  wolfish,  and  spoke 
like  a  madman.  I  told  him  that  I  had  spent 
the  money.  He  gnashed  his  teeth  at  me,  and 
swore  it  was  his  money.  I  told  him  that  I  had 
spent  it  on  him.  He  asked  me  how.  I  said 
in  trying  to  make  him  an  honest  man,  and  in 
repairing  the  results  of  his  villainy.  He  shrieked 
out  a  curse,  and  pulling  something  out  of  the 
breast  of  his  coat — a  loaded  stick,  I  think — he 
struck  me  with  it,  and  I  remembered  nothing 
more. " 

"The  blackguard!"  cried  the  Doctor,  "but  the 
police  must  be    hot  upon  his  track." 


178  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

*'I  fancy  not,"  Mrs.  Westmacott  answered 
calmly.  "As  my  brother  is  a,  particularly  tall, 
>thin  man,  and  as  the  police  are  looking  for  a 
short,  fat  one,  I  do  not  think  that  it  is  very 
probable  that  they  will  catch  him.  It  is  best,  I 
think,  that  these  little  family  matters  should 
be  adjusted  in  private." 

"My  dear  ma'am,"  said  the  Admiral,  "if  it  is 
indeed  this  man's  money  that  has  bought  back 
my  pension,*  then  I  can  -have  no  scruples  about 
taking  it.  You  have  brought  sunshine  upon 
us,  ma'am,  when  the  clouds  were  at  their  dark- 
est, for  here  is  my  boy  who  insists  upon  return- 
ing the  money  which  I  got.  He  can  keep  it 
now  to  pay  his  debts.  For  what  you  have  done 
I  can  only  ask  God  to  bless  you,  ma'am,  and 
as  to  thanking  you  I  can't  even " 

"Then  pray  don't  try,"  said  the  widow. 
^'Now  run  away.  Admiral,  and  make  your  peace 
with  Mrs.  Denver.  I  am  sure  if  I  were  she  it 
would  be  a  long  time  before  I  should  forgive 
you.  As  for  me,  I  am  going  to  America  when 
Charles  goes.  You'll  take  me  so  far,  won't  you. 
Ida?  There  is  a  college  being  built  in  Denver 
which  is  to  equip  the  woman  of  the  future  for 
the  struggle  of  life,  and  especially  for  her  bat- 
tle against  man.  Some  months  ago  the  com- 
mittee offered  me  a  responsible  situation  upon 
the  staff,  and  I  have  decided  now  to  accept  it, 
for  Charles's  marriage  removes  the  last  tie  which 


BEYOND  THE  CITY  179 

binds  me  to  England.  You  will  write  to  me 
sometimes,  my  friends,  and  you  will  address 
your  letters  to  Professor  Westmacott,  Emancipa- 
tion College,  Denver.  From  there  I  shall  watch 
how  the  glorious  struggle  goes  in  conservative 
old  England,  and  if  I  am  needed  you  will  find 
me  here  again  fighting  in  the  forefront  of  the 
fray.  Good-bye — but  not  you,  girls;  I  have  still 
a  word  I  wish  to  say  to  you. 

"Give  me  your  hand,  Ida,  and  yours,  Clara," 
said  she  when  they  were  alone.  "Oh,  you 
naughty  little  pusses,  aren't  you  ashamed  to 
look  me  in  the  face?  Did  you  think — did  you 
really  think  that  I  was  so  very  blind,  and  could 
not  see  your  little  plot?  You  did  it  very  well, 
1  must  say  that,  and  really  I  think  that  I  like 
you  better  as  you  are.  But  you  had  all  your 
pains  for  nothing,  you  little  conspirators,  for 
I  give  you  my  word  that  I  had  quite  made  up 
my  mind  not  to  have  him." 

And  so  within  a  few  weeks  our  little  ladies 
from  their  observatory  saw  a  mighty  bustle  in 
the  Wilderness,  when  two-horse  carriages  came, 
and  coachmen  with  favors,  to  bear  away  the 
twos  who  were  destined  to  come  back  one. 
And  they  themselves  in  their  crackling  silk 
dresses  went  across,  as  invited,  to  the  big 
double  wedding  breakfast  which  was  held  in 
the  house  of  Doctor  Walker.  Then  there  was 
health-drinking,  and  laughter,  and  changing  of 


180  BEYOND  THE  CITY 

dresses,  and  rice-throwing  when  the  carriages 
drove  up  again,  and  two  more  couples  started 
on  that  journey  which  ends  only  with  life  itself. 
Charles  Westmacott  is  now  a  flourishing 
ranchman  in  the  western  part  of  Texas,  where 
he  and  his  sweet  little  wife  are  the  two  most 
popular  persons  in  all  that  county.  Of  their 
aunt  they  see  little,  but  from  time  to  time  they 
see  notices  in  the  papers  that  there  is  a  focus 
of  light  in  Denver,  where  mighty  thunderbolts 
are  being  forged  which  will  one  day  bring  the 
dominant  sex  upon  their  knees.  The  Admiral 
and  his  wife  still  live  at  number  one,  while 
Harold  and  Clara  have  taken  number  two, 
where  Doctor  Walker  continues  to  reside.  As 
to  the  business,  it  had  been  reconstructed,  and 
the  energy  and  ability  of  the  junior  partner  had 
soon  made  up  for  all  the  ill  that  had  been  done 
by  his  senior.  Yet  with  his  sweet  and  refined 
home  atmosphere  he  is  able  to  realize  his  wish, 
and  to  keep  himself  free  from  the  sordid  aims 
and  base  ambitions  which  drag  down  the  man 
whose  business  lies  too  exclusively  in  the  money 
market  of  the  vast  Babylon.  As  he  goes  baclv 
every  evening  from  the  crowds  of  Throgmortoii 
Street  to  the  tree-lined  peaceful  avenues  of  Nor- 
wood, so  he  has  found  it  possible  in  spirit  also 
to  do  one's  duties  amidst  the  babel  of  the  Ciry, 
and  yet  to  live  beyond  it. 

THE  END. 


THE  ART  ALBUM. 

A  COLLECTION  OF  PHOTO-GRAVURES  OF 

FAIVCOUS   PAINTINOS, 
From  the  Art  Galleries  of  All  Nations. 


THIS  book  is  a  work  of  the  highest  artistic  merit,  containing^  144  full 
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The  followin^r  is  a  list  of  titles 
thus  far  issued  in  this  series: 
Ships  that  Pass  In  the  Night— Beatrice  Harraden 

2  Reveries  of  a  Bachelor— Ik.  Marvel 

3  A  Study  in  Scarlet— A.  Conan  Doyla 
A    A  Yellow  Aster -Iota 

6  Black  Beauty— Anna  Sewell 

6  A  Romance  of  Two  Worlds— Marie  Oorslil 

7  Ideala— Sarah  Grand 

8  The  Man  in  Black— Stanley  J.  Weyman 

9  Dodo— E.  F.  Benson 

lO  Esthor  Waters— George  Moore 

i  i  Singularly  Deluded— Sarah  Grand 

12  Charlotte  Temple— Mrs.  Rowson 

13  At  tho  Green  Dragon — Beatrice  Harraden 

14  The  Hired  Baby  and  other  stories— Mario  Corelil  and  others 

15  The  House  of  the  Wolf— Stanley  J.  Weyman 

16  Miss  Miine  and  I— By  author  of  "A  Yellow  Aster" 

17  Vashti  and  Esther— By  author  of  •♦  Belle's  Letters  " 
C^^Most  of  these  books  appeared  in  cloth  binding  in  England  omyt 

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THE  BABY'S  FIRST  SHOES 


COVERED  WITH 
SILVER, 

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Cuorumnihoi-p^ould  take  the  opportunity  to  have  her  Bahy'e  Shoes  pre- 
LfBl  ymUUlPI  fierved  with  metals  in  an  artistic  manner,  heretofore  unknown 

Many  mothers  have  retained  the  first  shoes  worn  by  their  children.  These 
little  keepsakes  become  dry,  moth  eaten  and  mouldy  from  dampness,  and 
under  such  conditions  they  are  placed  where  rarely  seen. 

After  many  experiments  we  have  attained  perfection  m  preserving  the 
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plate  with  pure  Silver,  Copper  oxidized,  or  Antique  Brass. 

If  the  little  shoe  is  worn  throu<:h  at  the  toe,  and  buttons  are  torn  off,  or  a 
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PRICES : 

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One  shoe  in  Copper  Oxidized,    2.50       Two  shoes  in  Copper  Oxidized,   4.00 

One  shoe  in  Antique  Brass,       2.50       Two  shoes  in  Antique  Brass,       4.00 

Special  prices  for  larger  sizes. 

All  shoes  should  be  sent  to  our  address  by  express  (prepaid)  for  safe 
delivery.    We  deliver  by  express  C.  O.  D.  ,  ^.  .  . 

^^  Any  other  article  made  of  kid,  leather,  silk,  wool,  &c.,  which  is 
prized  as  a  keepsake,  can  be  preserved  in  the  same  manner  as  the  shoes. 

THE    METALLIC   ART    COMPANY, 

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FROM   HEAVEN 


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By  ISAAC  GEORGE  REED,  Jr. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  forceful  and  fearless  arraignments  of  modern 
industrial  and  social  life  that  has  ever  appeared  in  print.  Interwoven  with 
the  story  of  two  young-  lovers,  the  author  has  depicted,  in  the  strongest 
colors,  that  deplorable  condition  of  our  social  organization,  emanating 
from  the  fierce  struggle  for  existence  in  New  York  and  other  large  civilized 
cities.    It  is  a  novel  with  a  purpose. 

PUBLISHED    IN 

THE  PARAGON  LIBRARY  OF  MODERN  BOOKS. 

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price:  35  CEinrTS. 

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Other  books  in  this  series  as  follows: 

/.  ALONE  ON  A  WIDE,   WIDE  SEA     .  By  W.  Clark  Russell 

An  exciting  sea  story  by  the  (^eatest  anthor  of  sea  tales. 

2.  ESTHER  WATERS         .  .  .         By  George  Moore 

The  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  of  the  white  slaves  of  London. 

3.  IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  MUTINY  .  ,      By  G.  A.  Henty 

One  of  Ilenty's  stirring  historical  novels. 

4.  LADY  VERNER'S  FLIGHT  .  By  '*  The  Duchess  " 

A  pure  story  of  English  life  with  the  usual  romance  in  it. 

5.  PICTURES  OF  THE  FUTURE         .  By  Eugene  Richter 

The  most  powerful  antidote  to  state  socialism  ever  published. 

e.  CHATTANOOGA  (A^.f^-^tvil  War)     •     By F.  A.  Mitchef 

A  charming  story,  extremely  well  told,  of  adventure,  danger,  warfare  and  love, 

7.  FROM  HEAVEN  TO  NEW  YORK.    By  Isaac  George  Reed,  Jr. 

An  accurate  portrayal  of  social  conditions  in  New  York.    Dedicated  to 
Dr.  Chas.  H.  Parkhurst. 

8.  A  MAD  PRANK  .  By  '*  The  Duchess  " 

One  of  the  latest  enjoyable  love  stories  by  this  famous  author. 

9.  CONSTANCE      .  .         By  F.  C.  Phillips 

The  readersof  "  As  in  a  Lookmg  Glass  "  will  doubtless  enjoy  this  story  by  the  same  author. 

10.  A  LOYAL  LOVER      .  .         By  Mrs.  E.  Lovett  Cameron 

A  charming  love  stor>'  that  will  be  a  welcome  diversion  from  the  every-day  cares  of  life. 

Any  of  these  books  sent  by  mail,  prepaid,  on  receipt  of  the  above  price. 

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HOtfTQBEHtfElCOMpMl 


Clear  and  Concise  Directions  for  Correct 
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Following  area  few  of  the  subjects  treated  In  this  work: 

The  Etiquette  of  Conversation:  Bodily  Deportment;  Self  Respect; 
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^^ju    yjjs    THE   LAST   riAfTrr. 

STAMPEDEELOW  ^^ 

AN     INITIAL    FINE    of    oi. 

WiLL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  pf^r  ^^  ^ENTS 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  Dat/;^^""^  ^°  RETURN 
W.I-L  'NCREASE  TOso  cInts  o  """^  '=^^>^'-TV 
OAY  AND  TO  SI  oo  \f  ^  °'^  ^HE  FOURTH 
OVERDUE.  "-^^    "'^    ^HE    SEVENTH     dIv 


M  08709 


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514262 


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